


I know it doesn't sound like it, but this is a love poem, this is a love poem, this is a love poem (until it isn't anymore.)

by I_want_to_hunt_the_Moon



Category: Feverwake - Victoria Lee
Genre: All fever wake warnings concerning Lehrer, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Because of Lehrer, Domestic Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Falling In Love, I'll make this much more complicated but that's the basics of it yeah, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kinda, M/M, Manipulation, Mild Sexual Content, Mind Control, Modern Royalty, Noam seems like a massive dick, Off -Screen Rape, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, but also fast burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:55:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 38,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27730393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_want_to_hunt_the_Moon/pseuds/I_want_to_hunt_the_Moon
Summary: Atlantia has finally been annexed, an event that is celebrated with a royal wedding. Not that Dara felt anything for his new husband of course. Álvaro is cold, powerful and worse: completely immune to Dara's telepathy because of the faraday crown resting on his head.With the marriage he has finally gained some amount of freedom from Lehrer but being handed over as a live hostage is not much better than his previous life. Somehow he's going to have to deal with being Lehrer's pawn, playing Álvaro's captive and his developing feelings for the very man he's supposed to undermine.A man that might be in a lot more shit than Dara had assumed at first.
Relationships: Noam Álvaro/Dara Shirazi
Comments: 89
Kudos: 64





	1. There is a lion in my living room. I feed it raw meat so it does not hurt me.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't ever make me write a summary Again.
> 
> I want to start by saying that I am not Jewish. So while I researched the customs, cuisine, culture etc of Judaism and tried to write those things in a respectful manner I am not entirely sure I succeeded. If you are Jewish/have a lot of knowledge on Judaism please tell me if there was anything I forgot, misinterpreted or misrepresented and I will try to fix it. I really want to do this right.
> 
> Also Lehrer is Ashkenazi Jewish and therefore the food/customs are Ashkenazi. I believe Dara was a Persian Jew. From what I can find it is pretty difficult to convert a child unless it's an infant (I'm also pretty sure this was orthodox Judaism) and I don't think Lehrer would have cared enough to do it. So I am going to assume Dara's parents were also Jewish (I'm like 90% sure this is canon). 
> 
> So the reason that Dara is partaking in (is that the right wording?) Ashkenazi customs is because he doesn't really remember his parents or their customs and Lehrer isn't human enough by a long shot to try and teach him his own culture. Therefore the only Judaism he comes in contact with is Ashkenazi Judaism. I like the thought that he later decides to rediscover his own culture but at the beginning of the story he does not partake in it.
> 
> Noam is 19 in chapter one and Dara just turned 21. By the time the actual wedding takes place Noam will be 20 and Dara almost 22.
> 
> Warnings (and spoilers):  
> references to abuse (all kinds)  
> manipulation  
> character is told he will be forced to marry  
> forced suppressing of powers  
> character has an eating disorder  
> references to war

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Then what the hell are you congratulating me for?”
> 
> Lehrer cocked his head. “Your impending marriage, of course.”
> 
> Was this some kind of sick joke? “My what?” Dara asked flatly. “Did all the magic finally rot your brain through?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings (and spoilers):  
> references to abuse (all kinds)  
> manipulation  
> character is told he will be forced to marry  
> forced suppressing of powers  
> character has an eating disorder  
> references to war
> 
> Chapter title  
> There Is A Lion In My Living Room
> 
> I feed it raw meat  
> so it does not hurt me.  
> It is a strange thing  
> to nourish what could kill you  
> in the hopes it does not kill you.  
> \- Clementine von Radics, Mouthful of Forevers

Dara stormed through the government complex. Lehrer had summoned him just as he was leaving. All plans to drink until he fell over most definitely ruined because Lehrer felt the need to verbally or physically assault someone and Dara was the easiest person to inflict harm on. God knows that nobody was going to stop him from doing so.

Maybe if he was polite Lehrer would let him go again. He had sent Bethany down with Taye, he could catch up. He would try to stay sober and dance with her a little longer to make it up to her and so she wouldn't worry about him. Try. He wouldn't be able to if this was some twisted booty call.

People stepped out of his way, the pitch black expression on his face apparently warning them not to try and talk to him. He let the thin film of their thoughts slip through his fingers. As much as he adored having his telepathy back after all this time he was already getting tired of them. They were always the same. _Ah, it's Dara. What is he in trouble for this time? He's lucky King Lehrer has so much patience, if it was my son I would have put him over my knee a dozen times_ _by now_ _. Such a shame to see so much talent mixed with that terrible attitude. Such a shame to see such a pretty face marred with such an ugly expression-_

Inwardly he made a face at them. They all got lied to and told they were unique since they were little and then actually believed it. Incredible how people never noticed that their minds all looked like the same brown drab. They weren't special, they weren't anything. The only thing they were good for was meaningless paperwork and keeping the ancient ass of a tyrant planted firmly on his throne.

When he neared the door of Lehrer's study he slowed down. He closed his eyes for a moment to take a deep breath. It wouldn't do to show up at Lehrer's with a furious expression on his face. Giving away that he was angry would be showing weakness. Not that Lehrer wouldn't know. They were too well acquainted for him not to but still. Showing your belly to Calix Lehrer was never a good idea. He would always attack. Even if it didn't feel like that at first.

Dara would know.

He knocked, waiting for two seconds before pushing the door open. He walked in at the same time that Lehrer said 'enter' making him raise an eyebrow. Dara let the door fall shut behind him. "Did you need something?" So much for trying to be polite.

Lehrer's eyebrow raised even further. "No need to ask it so rudely." He regarded Dara for a long moment. Taking in the club clothes, gaze sliding over skin left bare by the crop top Dara was wearing. He fought the urge to pull his coat closed. "Let's not have this conversation here." He stood up to flip the bookcase to the side. Dara felt the thick net of braided magic unravel. Lehrer walked down the hall, not even looking back to see if Dara followed. That pissed him off even more, even if he knew that checking to see if Dara would come wasn't necessary. He always did.

"Why is the apartment so much better than the study?" He bent down a little to greet Wolf as the net closed around him again. The dog excitedly jumping up against him even though he usually knew better. He hung his coat in the closet, he wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.

"Down, boy. I know you are excited but that's no excuse," Lehrer told the dog reproachfully. Then with a conspiratorial smile thrown over his shoulder he said, "We can have dinner in the apartment for one. I thought it would be nice to spend time together." He pulled out a chair for Dara.

"You agreed to let me go out for my birthday, I was going to eat with Bethany." Dara crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't want to play Lehrer's games right now. Lehrer led him to the dining table where two candles were already lit and the uncomfortable realisation that this wasn't spontaneous sunk in.

"Have you eaten yet?" He nodded to the chair when Dara shook his head. "My point exactly. Come sit. You standing around when I'm cooking will just be distracting." Dara contemplated being difficult just to piss him off but there was a dangerous glint in Lehrer's eyes that made it clear that none of this was up for discussion. It made the ever present embers of fear buried in Dara's chest flare up so he reluctantly sat down. Averting his gaze to hide it. Ignoring that Lehrer saw anyway. Lehrer smiled and turned around to rake through a drawer in the kitchen cabinet, he pulled out a round disk with _suppressant_ printed on the side of it in flat gray letters. 

“Why? I feel fine.”

“Give me your arm, Dara.” Lehrer held out his hand but when Dara didn't move the corners of his mouth pulled down and he grabbed it roughly to press the side of the disk against Dara’s arm. He barely felt the tiny prick of the needle going in as Lehrer smoothed his thumbs over the edges of the suppressant make sure it stuck. When he was satisfied he turned back to the kitchen.

Dara closed his eyes. Suppressants always made him feel off center, like the edge of his vision suddenly went fuzzy. He set his elbows on the table, leaning his head on his hand. "What are we eating?" 

"I don't know yet. What do you want? Gebratenes, gefilte fish?" His Yiddish was flawless.

"Since when do you observe the shabbat?"

Lehrer was idly looking through the cupboard, contemplating a pack of carrots. He flicked his eyes up at Dara briefly. "I’m jewish. Is that not reason enough?" he chided gently. The same tone in which he scolded Dara when he had been six and accidentally knocked over a bunch of expensive whiskey bottles when practicing telepathy. Identical to the voice he used when he pinned fourteen year old Dara's wrists to the bed to stop him from escaping as the whole world started crashing down on his head. The memory tightened his guard. Just because Lehrer was acting kind didn't mean that he was kind. That was something he only knew how to imitate.

"You _never_ observe it, at least not with me. I'm pretty sure we never celebrated anything together." Lehrer didn't seem very interested in interacting with his jewish heritage. Whether that was because he wanted to keep a neutral (which still meant christian) image to not turn away any supporters, because he associated jewish customs and traditions with his dead family or because he simply didn't really care about anything that wasn't power or sticking his dick where it didn't belong Dara didn't know.

"Haven't I? I admit it's been a while but I am certain I remember observing it with you when you were younger." He set a pot under the tap to fill up with water that boiled as soon as it hit the bottom while he expertly cut up greens. "I do know for a fact I celebrated Hanukkah with you when you were five. You adored fried kreplach. You helped me light the menorah. Or helped. You tried to at least. Do you remember it? Maybe you were too young," Lehrer laughed quietly.

A very vague memory of staring intensely at the shamash as Lehrer slowly guided his hands. Lehrer telling him he was going to go blind if he kept staring into the fire but Dara hadn't cared because Dara had been happy. Happy and sad. He was pretty sure it had to do with the fact that his parents weren't there anymore. How they couldn't meet the kind, kind man that was looking after him. "I remember eating all the Latkes," he said instead.

Lehrer chuckled. "You did. Even back then you were a little piggy." Dara flinched at the words, curling his fingers towards his palm. He checked to see if Lehrer was looking and closed his fingers around his wrist. Had he gained any weight? He didn't think so. He was still too fat but-

They were both silent as Lehrer cooked and Dara ran numbers through his head. When Lehrer was done cooking he put down a bowl of chicken soup in front of Dara. "Bon appetit." _This must be at least 90 calories-_

"Are you not eating? I made it just for you," Lehrer said, the _'You're a disappointment'_ omnipresent in his tone.

"I'm not that hungry. You know I don't eat much-"

"I know. I don't care. Eat." Lehrer's eyes glinted dangerously. Was that anger or Dara's fear lying to him again? Maybe he was using magic- "Dara, I'm not saying it again." Dara scowled but closed his fingers around the spoon, stalling by blowing on the soup but eventually giving in and swallowing thickly. “There’s a good boy,” Lehrer murmured as he walked around the table. “If you keep that attitude everything will turn out perfectly fine.”

“What do you mean?”

Lehrer shot him an amused look but the edges of his mouth were cruel. “I have to congratulate you, pet.”

Dara could feel his heartbeat picking up. “For what?” Lehrer just smiled. “Did you poison this?” Dara asked while angrily pointing down at his soup.

“I wouldn’t waste food like that,” Lehrer reprimanded. Which was true, Lehrer had been immensely aggravated when Dara started to eat less and he had been forced to throw food away. Lehrer probably wouldn’t poison him only because he didn't want to waste anything.

“Then what the hell are you congratulating me for?”

Lehrer cocked his head. “Your impending marriage, of course.”

Was this some kind of sick joke? “My what?” Dara asked flatly. “Did all the magic finally rot your brain through?”

Lehrer’s eyes turned colder. “I would think you would be happy. Getting to spread your wings, not having to deal with me, finally doing something useful with your life.” Lehrer sighed. “That would be too much to ask of you but I had hope.”

Dara closed his eyes as he tried to keep the soup down. “You can’t…” But of course he can, of course he would. “Why?”

Lehrer regarded him calmly. “The other party wanted insurance, leverage of some degree, they assumed they would get it through you.” He said it like it was a business transaction, to him it probably was.

“Who’s the other party?”

“The Atlantian government.”

“We won then.”

Lehrer shrugged. “They accepted our help and recognized that it would be easiest if we annexed them. Path of the least resistance and all that.” _Path where you fire the least amount of bullets in civilians_. 

“And the marriage…”

“Symbolic. Your husband will have a seat in my cabinet, something they seem to believe will give them political power but we need something to sell and a marriage is the perfect way to do that. People adore lovers on opposed sides.” _So it’s a man._

“No one is dumb enough to eat that bullshit,” Dara burst out.

Lehrer shot him a reproachful look. “You met at a peace negotiation, you fell in love and want to get married as soon as possible-”

“No.”

“He proposed, it’s been a secret because you feared the reactions-”

“Stop it!” Dara slammed his hand down on the table. “I am not some bargaining chip that you can just trade away as you please!”

Lehrer cocked an eyebrow. Then he laughed and leaned forward. “You are whatever I want you to be and I will do whatever I want with you and right now that is giving you away to a former enemy soldier to solidify the treaty. You have no say in this. You cannot stop this. You will not fight this.”

“Going to keep me on suppressants forever?”

“If I have to, yes, but I don't want to. Your gift is useful, Dara. It would be a shame if you forced me to hide it away. You're so plain without it, after all. For now you don't have anything to worry about, just don't cause a scene and smile.” Dara felt his lips turn up and slapped both hands over his mouth. Lehrer carried on like nothing was happening, “Your husband is a very impressive person. Part of a vigilante group that specialized in hijacking our provisions and giving it to the poor. Became a witching around fourteen and joined the army when he was fifteen after he took over the rebel group Free Atlantia from his ill father some time before. A colonel at eighteen and he’s shown no signs of slowing down. He’s made it far, a son anyone would be proud of.”

 _A son you’re throwing your own away fo_ r. Dara looked away. “What do you want me to do?”

Lehrer took a deep breath and seemed to consider it. “Don't cause a scene. No more drinking, no more whoring yourself out, keep him happy and watch him. Tell me any information you find.”

“He’ll be expecting that,” Dara argued.

“Convince him you are merely an angry child with daddy issues. He will discard you as such and stop seeing you as a threat.”

“You don't know if that will work.”

“I do, you are very beguiling. I've experienced that myself,” Lehrer said with an amused smile on his lips.

Dara chewed on his lip. “If you do something they don't like…”

“They will threaten you, yes.”

Dara pressed his nails into his hand. “And you are fine with that.” After all that had happened he had thought- For some reason he still believed that Lehrer might care.

“We all have to make our sacrifices, Dara. You know I prefer to see you well.”

“But you're giving me away.”

“Would you rather have me keep you forever?” Lehrer paused. He nodded when Dara didn't react. “Didn't think so.”

He was right, of course, but still. _Better the devil you know._ “What’s his name?”

“Noam Álvaro.”

“He will hate me,” Dara whispered.

“Convince him otherwise. If you can't manage that, ask him to avoid your face and wear long sleeves. You’ll manage.” Dara could hear the threat woven through that sentence loud and clear. “Now eat, I made it just for you after all.”


	2. My unearthly father is as shapeshifter as he is god

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first thing he notices is that Álvaro is tense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I am horrible at planning so chapter 4 will probably take a little longer bc I have to do exams.
> 
> Warnings:  
> Off screen sexual assault. But the very beginning is on screen. Nothing explicit.  
> implied past sexual assault.  
> Just every warning that comes with Lehrer basically.  
> mentions of war
> 
> In the wake of my name (worth 1 roomful of kings),  
> My face (worth 1 thousand ships),  
> My bed (worth 10 years' war),  
> They forget that I am the daughter of two kings, not one.
> 
> My unearthly father is as shapeshifter as he is god;  
> I was born to live in animal skins as easily as my own.  
> I was born a lion cub.  
> Ravenous, dreaming of the hearts of men.
> 
> "Of Sparta" they call me.  
> Menelaus tried to muzzle a dragon with a wedding ring.
> 
> "Of Troy" they call me.  
> Paris hoped to satisfy a she-wolf with fervent kisses and silk sheets
> 
> As if I would settle for anything  
> less than blood.
> 
> — AND I AM STILL HUNGRY. From diradea.

Dara fiddled with his sleeves and wished for the millionth time he had brought a book. He hadn’t, Lehrer had told him it would seem disrespectful to his fiancé, just as his fiancé was being disrespectful by keeping him waiting for over an hour. At least he had bourbon to keep him company but he couldn’t get shit faced right now. 

Lehrer sat perfectly straight on his seat at the head of the table but Dara could see him slide his thumb back and forth over the side of his index finger indicating he wanted a cigarette. Well, fuck him, Dara wanted one too. Dara wanted a lot more than a cigarette and he was stopped from getting it by Álvaro not being bothered to hurry up.

Right when Dara was about to stop caring about whatever Lehrer might do to him and storm out an aide scurried in the room to whisper to Lehrer that the Atlantian representatives had arrived. Today no important meetings were going to be held, just Dara meeting the man he was madly in love with while everybody pretended to not be at each other's throats.

When they came in both Lehrer and Dara stood up to greet them. Dara’s eyes snagged on the circlet they were all wearing, he can practically hear Lehrer’s vexation swirl through the air but he is smiling warmly and doesn't show it. The party consists of three people but Dara only has eyes for the one on the far left. 

The first thing he notices is that Álvaro is tense. His back ramrod straight and his mouth a firm line. Dara knows he is younger but he is drawn out of hard lines that make him seem older, unwelcoming. The second thing he notices is that, once he’s straightened up out of the customary bow, he’s tall, not as tall as Lehrer, no one is, but almost a head taller than Dara. The uniform helps further that impression. It makes him look powerful and dangerous which Dara knows for a fact he is. A technopath, a strong one. If he had been born in Carolinia he would probably have joined level IV. Maybe they would have been friends. Dara almost laughs. They wouldn't have been because Dara is bad at making friends and something in Álvaro’s face makes him want to rake his nails over his cheek, to ruin that perfect image and get to what’s beneath it.

He hadn’t looked at Dara yet, eyes focused on Lehrer, the biggest bomb in this room, but he isn't the one that speaks first. The short brown man practically dripping diplomacy wearing a suit in a way that betrays he doesn't often wear one stepped forward instead. “Your majesty, we are honored you are willing to receive us. We apologize for the delay.” That sentence makes the firm line of Álvaro’s pretty mouth harden the tiniest bit and Dara almost smiles at his displeasure. More a fighter than a lover this one. 

Lehrer smiled warmly. “The honor is all mine. I’m glad you were able to make it. Please, sit.” Dara sits back down on his chair while the others walk forward to pull one out. “Noam, it’s good to see you again.” 

Álvaro looked slightly caught off guard but nodded. “Likewise, your majesty.” His voice was deep and carefully steady, Dara narrowed his eyes at the effort to hide any and all emotion.

“Why don't you sit here?” Lehrer gestured to the seat left of him. “That way you and Dara can talk easier.” For the first time Álvaro’s eyes slide over to Dara for longer than a single second and he looks at him and blinks. His mouth dropped open the tiniest bit and he seemed dazed.

Good to know Dara didn't get ugly on the walk over here. 

“Pleasure,” Álvaro forced out.

Dara gave him a strained smile. “I’m sure it is.”

Álvaro’s eyes widened in surprise and he averted them quickly. Lehrer shot him a dirty look. “Could I get you a drink?” he asked while looking at the officials

“Bourbon,” Dara said flatly.

Lehrer ignores him and instead gestures for the butlers in the room to give each person their favored drink. He stops the one that was about to set bourbon in front of Dara with a look. He leaned forward to lay a hand on Dara’s shoulder and white hot pain shot through him, making him grind his teeth together. “I don’t think it’s wise to drink any more with your health problems, my dear.” He turned to the butler. “He’ll have water.” Then he lets go. Dara refused to slump in relief. When he looked up through his lashes again Álvaro seemed alarmed. He opened his mouth as if to say something but his eyes flitted to Lehrer and he decided against it. 

Lehrer raised his glass with a brilliant smile. “A toast to a dire needed peace.” The others raise their glass as Lehrer’s smile turns teasing. “And a happy marriage.” He looked at Dara as he said the last two words and Dara felt his stomach constrict. Everyone but Álvaro drinks, he instead raises his glass to his lips and tips it upwards but his lips stay closed. 

What follows is the mind numbing, fake friendly small talk that high society is so fond of and Dara can barely even pretend to be interested. The fact that Álvaro’s smile is hanging on by a single thread cheers him up a little but it is still so boring that Dara is almost grateful he can’t read any of their minds. Dara tries to entertain himself with the thoughts floating over from the staff but forcibly reigns in his telepathy when one starts to fantasise about Lehrer and Dara did not need anymore naked Lehrer in his life than he already had, thank you very much.

“You don’t have to be nervous, sugar,” a thick southern drawl came from next to him.

Dara turned to the woman. Her brown hair was pulled back neatly and her eyes were kind. “For what?”

“The wedding. I know it’s far from ideal, having to marry out of necessity but you don't have to be afraid of Noam, he’s a good boy. He just looks very serious, that’s all.” 

_He looks like he wants to rip my throat out._ “Oh, I’m not scared, I’m not nearly as frail as I look,” Dara grinned. “Are you his mother?”

She shook her head sadly. “No, he’s an orphan. It’s a bit of a sore subject I’m afraid so please avoid bringing it up. But we are close and he’s sweet, he gets in trouble but he means well.”

He stuck out his hand and she shook it. “I’m Dara.”

“Linda.”

“Any embarrassing childhood stories I need to know about?”

Linda smiled and leaned forward conspiratorially. “When he was ten he broke the lobster tank at a restaurant because he thought it was inhumane to eat them and tried to free them.”

“Did it work?”

Linda laughed. “No, the staff caught on and he had to run for it, got an earful from his mother about it later. Didn’t stop pouting for a week.” She was smiling from ear to ear and Dara found it surprisingly easy to smile back.

“Linda,” the man, Brennan, Dara remembers seeing him on tv, leans forward to whisper urgently and Dara turns away to give them some privacy. His eyes caught (annoyingly) on Álvaro again.

His eyes were earnest and the line of his shoulders were set determinedly. “Would you say it was a similar situation, sir?”

“Although war often has the same bones I don't think anything was comparable to that. It might also have been because I lived through it but the Catastrophe was unrivalled in its destruction. Closest thing I can think of is world war two but while both that and the Catastrophe were similar in cruelties during the Catastrophe the world was much further developed, that combined with the relatively new virus was near crippling for everybody.” Lehrer said it casually, as if he didn’t despise discussing these events with Dara. Seeing it birthed something ugly in Dara’s chest, something vicious that was aimed at Álvaro.

Álvaro inclined his head for a moment, perhaps in apology, and smiled. “Of course, I didn't mean to imply it was anywhere near as devastating, I was aiming more in the overzealous, corrupt government direction. Your majesty.”

Lehrer’s glass rose to his lips and he took a slow sip as all chatter in the room fell away. “Ah, I see.” The silence was thick but Álvaro didn't avert his eyes and Dara _hated_ him for it. “I wouldn't say it is anywhere near the same. I am trying to help you, Noam. I’m trying to help your people and I genuinely believe that annexing Atlantia is the best way to do that. I am not stripping you of your rights, I am not going to torture you, I am not going to kill you for daring to exist. What I am going to do is help. Your country will have access to Carolinian healthcare, our food, our education and I know this is a difficult situation to accept for you especially, you’re a patriot after all, and one not very fond of governments at that, I’m aware, but sometimes we have to do things we dislike, make sacrifices, I’m sure that you’re very conscious of that.” Lehrer smiled sadly. “I understand that you’re angry but I ask you not to take that out on my sacrifice.” Álvaro followed Lehrer’s gaze to Dara and for a brief second he looked horrified.

“I would never.”

Dara would have been touched if he wasn't busy boiling over with anger. He pressed his lips together and looked down at the table as Brennan quickly steered the conversation back to a safer topic.

Dara didn’t say anything anymore and Álvaro stayed quiet too. 

When the evening fell Lehrer clapped his hands once. “I think now would be the time to plant the seeds.” He smiled at Álvaro’s confused look. “For your relationship of course. Dara is a public figure, people are always watching him. Walk around, hold hands, make out or whatever youths do this day. Just start a scandal. Dara is an expert don't worry,” Lehrer laughed. He waved his hand at them and Álvaro draped his coat over his arm and stood hesitantly to walk around the table and reached his hand out for Dara. Dara shoved his chair back and took it. Álvaro’s fingers were warm and calloused and wherever they touched Dara felt his skin tingling. 

“Thank you for the drink, your majesty.”

“It was my pleasure. Just drop him off before midnight.”

“Of course,” Álvaro said smoothly. Then he led Dara out the door. When it was closed behind them he stopped. 

Dara gave him an impatient look. “Well?”

“I don't know where anything is.”

Dara clicked his tongue. “Right.” He linked his arm through Álvaro’s and pulled him in the direction of the stairs.

“Where are we going?”

“The courtyard, I thought some fresh air might be nice.” Álvaro nodded his head once. After Dara had led them outside they awkwardly strolled through the courtyard. He must look ridiculous, hanging off Álvaro’s arm and scowling.

“So what do you want to do when you grow up?” Dara snorted and gave him a disbelieving look but Álvaro just looked expectantly at him. “Politics?”

“No! God, no.”

“What then? What do you like?”

Dara tipped his head back. “I like… bourbon, I like goats, I like plants, I like the stars, I like reading, I like pineapple on pizza and if you disagree with the last one I will not marry you I don't care about the stakes. ”

Álvaro huffed out a laugh. “Don’t worry, you can have your pizza. But goats?”

“It’s the only thing I’m putting on the damn wedding register so someone will have to give one to me.”

“Where would they live?”

“I always…” Dara paused. “If I was able to choose I would live somewhere on like a farm or something, so probably there.”

“You? On a farm? I'm sorry but I have trouble combining those images in my head.”

 _You don't even know me._ Dara suppressed the urge to spit out the acid, Álvaro was going to have a lot of power over him in the near future, better not piss him off too much. “What about you?”

He felt Álvaro shrug. “Is a cabinet position at eighteen not enough?”

“Is that what you want?”

“It is.”

“Okay, you’re boring. What did you want to be when you were little?”

When Álvaro tipped his head back to look at the sky Dara couldn't help but admire the sharp cut of his jawline. He was too sober for this. “What did I want to be? When I was very little I wanted to be batman or a dolphin trainer.”

“Why not both?”

“Why indeed,” Álvaro said low and amused. “I think that for paparazzi to notice us we need to leave the courtyard, they can’t see us here.”

Dara shrugged. “I know but I thought it would be wise if we were at least a little comfortable with each other before we threw ourselves to the wolves.”

Álvaro hummed. “Smart.”

“We can make a round around the block, they will probably catch on.”

“Let’s do it.” Álvaro started leading them back to the entrance and held the door open for Dara, it earned him a dubious look but he just smiled back.

When they stepped out on the street Dara took Álvaro’s arm again and sunk into him, he felt Álvaro freeze. “You’ll have to at least try to sell it. I don't scare you, do I?” Dara said it innocently but the look he threw up at Álvaro through his lashes was provoking. Álvaro stilled when he saw it before gently untangling his arm from Dara’s and very deliberately catching him around the waist to pull him a little firmer against his body. Dara’s breath caught in his throat

“Not at all.” Dara shivered at the challenge in his tone. Álvaro’s eyebrows shot up. “Ah, sorry.” He let go of Dara to grab his coat off his other arm and laid it over Dara’s shoulders. “Forgot you didn't have a coat.” 

Dara wasn't sure if it was the coat or the arm that found its way back around his waist that warmed him more. “Thanks.”

“Don't mention it.” They continued silently and after a short moment Dara, while very deliberately not looking at Álvaro, laid his arm around Álvaro’s waist. “So, you said you liked reading?” 

Dara opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by the flash of a camera. He looked to his left to see people running at them. Álvaro seemed off balance for a moment before he tightened his grip on Dara’s waist and decisively turned them around so he was between the paparazzi and Dara. He led them back to the government complex at a brisk pace as he ignored the questions being hurled their way. Dara pulled Álvaro’s coat tighter around his shoulders to draw attention to it and hid his face against Álvaro’s upper arm. 

The guards at the entrance stopped the pursuit but he could still see the camera’s flashing when they were inside. Álvaro threw a wary look over his shoulder. “That should be enough. Are you alright?”

Dara pushed a curl behind his ear. “I- Yes, I am.”

Álvaro nodded distractedly and started to push him in the direction of the stairs. “Good. Let’s get you back to your father.”

Immediately all Dara’s hackles were raised, he shot Álvaro a furious look. “He’s not my father.”

Álvaro rolled his eyes. “He adopted you, he fed you, he clothed you.”

“That means _nothing_.”

Álvaro laughed bitterly. “No? What is he then?” _My jailor_ , Dara didn't say and Álvaro seemed to take his silence as affirmation. “Thought so.”

Dara’s vision flashed red and for a single second he was convinced he was going to hit Álvaro as hard as he could but then they reached the top of the stairs and Lehrer came into sight. Those eyes never failed to pin Dara into place. “Had a nice walk?”

Álvaro straightened. “We were seen and photographed, your majesty. It should be sufficient to get rumors started.”

“Fantastic. I’m afraid we have to part for tonight but we’ll talk more tomorrow. Thomas will show you where you’ll be staying.” Lehrer gestured to the smiling staff behind him. “Come with me, my dear.” Dara walked over to his side so Lehrer could lay a paternal hand on his shoulder.

He threw a smile over his shoulder. “It was nice meeting you.” 

Álvaro just looked at him while Linda enthusiastically waved. “Sleep well, sugar! Noam, don't be rude.” Dara’s smile sharpened the tiniest bit as Álvaro stuttered out something at an indignant Linda who had both hands on her hips now.

Lehrer didn't say anything as he led Dara to the apartment but his fingers didn't tighten to paint fresh bruises into Dara’s skin so he must not be too angry at Dara’s behavior. Once the Atlantians were out of sight he asked, “Did you tip off the paparazzi?”

Lehrer’s smile was as sharp as a knife. “Why take unnecessary risks?”

“You could have told me.”

“I needed it to look genuine, stop pouting.”

“I’m not pouting,” Dara muttered. Lehrer shot him a dubious look, his eyes were dancing with amusement and Dara felt regret in moments like this. He missed the period where they were okay manufactured as it had been. He would never say it out loud but deep down a part of him always wished that he could still call Lehrer dad and that the bruises on his body were made out of only anger instead of desire. He wondered if Lehrer ever thought back to when he was still his father, if he had ever thought of himself as Dara’s father.

He was ripped out of his reverie by Lehrer’s hand tightening and when he looked up his gaze was calculating again. “What did you talk about?”

Dara blew a curl out of his face, a boyish gesture but Lehrer always managed to reduce him back to a scared child. “Just standard get-to-know-each-other stuff. He wanted to know if I had any ambitions.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“I like reading and goats.”

“His response?”

“He didn't think I would enjoy the farm life.”

Lehrer chuckled. “I don't think he’s wrong. Oh, don't pout, you've barely ever left the city what would you even do on a farm?”

Dara smiled back -maybe he was drunker than he thought he was- “Have goats.”

“Of course. If you behave well enough I will give you a farm as a wedding present, but don't blame me when you grow tired of it.”

“No, it’s fine. Just gift me all your finest alcohol or something.” _I don’t want you to taint this fantasy for me._

“Did he say anything else?”

“Not much, he’s a closed book. He’s satisfied with the cabinet position but did not disclose future plans, that’s all I got out of him. Oh! He says he’s going to let me eat pizza so at least living with him will be more fun than living with you.”

Lehrer unlocked the door to his study and gestured for Dara to walk in. “I’m glad you’re seeing the positive sides of this situation.” He started to tug down the wards and Dara followed him into the apartment. “This is a necessary step to achieve peace but I will miss you.” He bent down to greet Wolf. “You’ve been difficult these last few years but I do still care about you, I hope you don't forget that.” _Liar_ , Dara thought breathlessly. Lehrer straightened and walked over to cup Dara’s jaw. Dara braced himself but the hand didn't slide lower to grasp his throat, just rested lightly against his face. “It was a pleasure to see you grow and I have to admit that the depth of my sadness to see you go surprises me, you were very taxing to raise after all.” He pushed the coat, Álvaro's coat, off Dara’s shoulder and slid his hands down to Dara’s waist. “Come on.” He smiled and led Dara to his bare bedroom and in the low lighting he looked exactly the same as he had done six years ago. Tall, handsome, someone unable to be denied anything.

He felt Lehrer’s hand slide under his shirt. “I’m tired.”

“Don't worry, I’ll do the work. You just lay back and relax.” Lehrer bent down to kiss his neck and Dara closed his eyes under the onslaught of his emotions. There was some sick desire within him and he desperately hoped that it was for everything to stop. 

It never did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still tired but a little better now. Hope you're all okay!


	3. What is home if not the first place you learn to run from?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You weren't a child, Dara. You knew full well what you were doing, I thought this was what you wanted.”
> 
> “You knew it wasn’t.” And Lehrer had known. He must have. Didn't all adults know? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very unedited bc my wifi is broken so I can tell you right now that the next chapter is going to be late. Sorry! Also exams and I can't write rn (bc of the wife) but I promise I'm working on Prayer for persephone (and by working I mean I wrote 5 pages of 18+ stuff but nvm).
> 
> This chapter is going to be godawful. So!
> 
> Warnings:  
> Rape (off screen)  
> abuse, all kinds. (on screen)  
> gaslighting.  
> Lehrers trauma  
> threats of torture

Dara stared at the ceiling, not moving when he heard the shower shut off. A minute later Lehrer came into his room, hair still wet and his shirt half unbuttoned. Dara wondered how many people dreamed of being in his position and why Lehrer didn't take them instead. Lehrer smiled at him and he would have been handsome. He was handsome, Dara knew he was, and maybe Dara would have been attracted to him as well if the smile was genuine, if Lehrer had let him stay with his parents, if he wasn't a monster, if Lehrer wasn't some wan imitation of a father to him. 

“You should shower.” Dara didn't say anything. Lehrer sighed and grabbed his upper arm to lift him out of bed and set him down on his feet. When Dara was standing Lehrer grabbed him by both shoulders and pushed him back a little to let his gaze travel over his naked body.

“What?”

“Nothing, just remembering when we started. You didn't even come to my shoulder.”

Dara swallowed harshly. “Because I was fourteen, a child.”

Lehrer gave him an exasperated look. “You were old enough.”

“I wasn’t, you know that.”

Lehrer sighed loudly. “You had hit puberty, you were spreading your legs for people your own age. I don't see the difference between that and what we had.” Lehrer gently squeezed his shoulders. “It was good, I still don't understand why you insist on ruining it.”

“It wasn't good.”

“It was good for us, we had never been better. I enjoyed myself, you enjoyed yourself, there is nothing wrong with that.” He had said the same when Dara was younger. _There is nothing wrong with feeling good, little one_. Dara had lifted his head from where it was resting in Lehrer’s lap and he had known that it was wrong but he had ignored it because Lehrer kept kissing him so sweetly.

Father knew best after all.

“I didn't enjoy myself, you said I did. You manipulated me. There’s a reason laws are in place to stop people from ‘just enjoying themselves’ with children.” This was an old conversation that had never ended any differently and Dara didn't know why he felt the need to keep having it. As if having it enough times made Lehrer suddenly see the light and say, You're right. It is wrong. I was wrong and I am sorry. As if things would be good, like Dara could forgive him if he did. He didn't want to, he _wouldn't_.

“You weren't a child, Dara. You knew full well what you were doing, I thought this was what you wanted.”

“You knew it wasn’t.” And Lehrer had known. He must have. Didn't all adults know? 

Lehrer threw both hands up. “How? How would I have known? Like we’ve established, I can’t read your mind, I can't persuade you. You never said you didn't want it. I even tried to resist, which I managed for over a year but you just pushed and pushed and then you finally convinced me to do as you wanted and years later you tell me you didn't mean it and that’s somehow my fault.”

“Fathers don't fuck their children.’

“Children don't seduce their fathers, Dara. This goes both ways.” It didn't, but every time Dara tried to explain that he would get angry and Lehrer would tell him to stop acting hysterical and use it as proof he was grasping at straws and not ready to have a mature conversation.

“What about when I did say no? You didn't listen.”

“You angered me.”

“And I said no.” Dara hadn't just said no, Dara had begged for him to stop but all Lehrer had done was backhand him across the face with a stern, _I told you to stop calling me dad_.

Lehrer sighed again. “I’ve already apologized for that. I admitted, I was too rough and I shouldn't have hurt you but you were really pushing me, you have to admit that. ”

“You keep doing it.”

“No, don't start with this. I prepare you, I make you come, you don't say no. What else do you want from me?”

“I want you to stop doing it.”

Lehrer smiled coldly. “No, you don't. We both know that’s a lie. You’re desperate for it, for me.”

“Stop. Talking.”

“Afraid to admit the truth we both know? It’s alright, my dear, I can read between the lines.”

“Did the doctors at St. George’s hospital read between the lines too?”

Lehrer had never talked about the hospital but Dara could draw his own conclusions. Everyone knew how bad it had been in there, anything bad enough to still affect Lehrer in such a big way must have been devastating. Dara only really noticed it when he had tried to kill himself, how tense Lehrer had been when he visited him in the hospital. At first, Dara assumed it was anger at the fact that Dara tried to destroy a prized possession but then he noticed the hatred in Lehrer’s eyes whenever a doctor or nurse came to check up on him. He had always assumed, for some reason, that Lehrer just hated his personal doctor, that she had done something wrong, but that was apparently not the case. He had wondered about how bad the situation must have been for Lehrer’s hands to tremble ever so slightly. No one had noticed but Dara had been watching this man’s, this _thing’s_ , every move for years. And for that to happen they must have done everything awful.

Why not the worst thing that Lehrer had ever done to him? 

Dara had a split second to realise he made a mistake before Lehrer slammed him against the wall and punched him in the face with so much force Dara was convinced Lehrer must have broken something again. “How. Dare. You.” Each calmly spoken word was accentuated with his fist. “How dare you compare what they did to me with what you made me do. You can't even begin to comprehend.” Lehrer’s eyes were nearly glowing with anger. “Shall I show you? Shall I show you even a fraction of what they did?”

“No! No, I’m sorry! I don't know what came over me. I’m sorry, sir. Please.”

Lehrer lifted him off the wall only to slam him against it harder. “Horrible child. You were always a piece of work. No one wanted to have you, no one wanted a crazy child but I gave you a chance, I took you in, I was good to you even when you were a disappointment and then you repay me like this. I tried with you but the truth of the matter is that you can't help but provide people with more and more reasons to despise you. The truth is that you are deeply, deeply unlovable.”

“I’m sorry, please, sir.”

Lehrer laughed. “You provoke me like that and then turn around to cry about how everything is all my fault when we both know you deserve every second you get.”

“I know, sir,” Dara gasped. “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn't have said that, I don't know what I’m talking about-”

“No, you don't.” Lehrer grabbed his face, fingers squeezing hard, and Dara tried not to cry out when he pressed his nails into fresh wounds. “Do you want to?”

“W-What?”

Lehrer leaned closer so his breath fanned over Dara’s face. “Do you want to know what you’re talking about?”

“No! No, I’m sorry-”

“Because I can show you,” Lehrer continued. “It will only be a fraction but maybe it will finally teach you some respect.”

“Sir-”

“I think you’ve said enough.” Dara shut his mouth. “Tears aren't going to help you, liebling.” Lehrer’s face contorted into a smile and this one didn't hide the fact that he was something hateful and mad. Something only Dara understood. _Why could no one ever see?_ He threw Dara onto the bed and held his wrist down in a painful grip as his hand travelled down Dara’s body. “Now, what am I going to do first? Fire, maybe.” 

Dara felt terror seize him. Lehrer had hurt him but never in that way, he was abusive but this was- this was- “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, it was my fault, I didn't mean it-”

“We were having such a good night.”

“I know. I’m sorry I ruined it, I’m sorry I ruin everything-

Lehrer heaved a great sigh. “I know you don't believe me but I care about you Dara, I’m the only person who will always care about you, don't say that Ames will because we both know she’ll leave eventually, you aren't a very good friend. You know I don't like hurting you, why do you have to make it so difficult? 

“I’m sorry, really, I promise. I won't do it again, I swear.”

“Oh, liebling.” Lehrer carded a hand through his hair. “I’m afraid of what will happen if you do something like this to your intended. What if you make him angry? I won't be there to save you. It’s better if you learn the lesson now.” He closed his hand in Dara’s curls.

“No! No, I learned it. I’ll behave. Please.” 

Lehrer stood stock still for a second that felt like eternity but then he relaxed and bent down to press a kiss against Dara’s forehead. “You're going to sleep with your injuries to let the lesson sink in very deep and if I feel like you regret your mistakes enough I _might_ be bothered to heal them. Not that you deserve it.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I’m doing this because I care, Dara. Don’t ever forget that. ” Then he stood up to leave the room. “Goodnight.” The door closed behind him.

Dara pulled the blanket over his head with shaking hands and tried to forget he was alive.

* * *

The next morning Dara could feel pain radiating from everywhere and one eye was swollen shut. He thought he had gotten most of the dried blood off but he wasn't sure. Lehrer was sitting on the opposite side of the table with a newspaper ignoring Dara while he tried to shrink himself as small as possible with downcast eyes and fidgeting hands. Lehrer was always more agreeable when he felt powerful. Lehrer took a long sip of his coffee. “Eat your breakfast.” Dara startled and quickly complied. When he dared to look up over a spoonful of yoghurt he caught Lehrer’s biting gaze. He averted his eyes and continued to quietly eat breakfast. He heard Lehrer tap his finger against his cup.

Last night had been an oddity for both of them. Dara was normally better at keeping his head down and it had been a while since Lehrer had shown that much genuine anger. Even the air in the room felt off center.

Lehrer put his cup and newspaper down and leaned his forearms on the table. “What got into you last night?”

Dara kept his eyes on his food. “I don't know.”

Lehrer leaned down a little to catch his gaze.“You started off so well behaved.”

“I know. I’m sorry, sir.”

Lehrer sighed in response and kept studying Dara’s face, eyes unreadable. He stood and walked around the table to force Dara’s head up and then turned it from left to right. Dara’s face started to itch as magic knitted it back together and he suppressed the urge to sneeze. When Lehrer was done he angled Dara’s head again to admire his handiwork. “All pretty again,” he murmured and Dara forced himself to smile in thanks. They both knew it was fake but Lehrer seemed willing to accept the peace offering. The bruises on his back still blossomed but Dara knew not to push his luck any further. “I really tried to make it good for you. We won't have much more time together and I wanted us to have something nice to remember each other by.”

“Oh.” _What kind of absolute-_ “I’m sorry I ruined it.”

Lehrer hummed. “It might have been the stress getting to you. Everything moved so suddenly. Do you want me to tell Noam that you don't feel good today?

“No, he’ll just think it’s because of him. Have you looked at the headlines yet?”

“Yes,” Lehrer laughed and tapped the newspaper. “It’s the big news this morning, they’ve been bothering the PR team for hours. Most are positive but there’s a couple who take the ‘traitorous whore’ route, don't pay attention to those.”

“The face that launched a thousand ships,” Dara muttered under his breath.

“If you leave your chosen husband to run away with an idiot and start a war I’ll be very cross with you.” Lehrer said it with a teasing smile as he picked his coffee up again but Dara still felt fear pooling in the bottom of his stomach. Lehrer was much like the sea, deceptively calm one moment, sinking all you held dear the next. 

“What do we do now?”

“We’ll have to inflame the rumors. Do you have any ideas?”

“I’ll find him at some public place with lots of witnesses to give him his coat back and then ask him if I could talk to him in private.”

“Very good.” Lehrer folded his paper open again. “You may go.”

Dara shoved his chair back and went to get ready. When he was done brushing his teeth and fussing with his hair he threw Álvaro’s coat over his arm and turned to leave. Lehrer shot him an amused glance as he passed by. “What?”

“You always take so long.”

“I have demanding hair, you don't have curls so you can never understand.” Lehrer chuckled softly in response. Dara tugged down the wards with quick gestures and made his way out of the study.

He knew Álvaro’s schedule, right now he should be getting out of a meeting with a bunch of officials. Those things dragged on for days because when you were done with the meeting people oftentimes straggled and had meaningless conversation after meaningless conversation that could barely hold anyone's attention, Dara would know. 

He sorted through the pages of the many minds in his vicinity until he caught a snippet of _he’s rather well spoken for an Atlantian._ The atrium, perfect. He smiled to himself and headed down there. When he was still a considerable distance away he smiled sweetly and said, “Noam!” It had the intended effect of turning many heads including Álvaro’s. His eyes widened and quickly took note of the many eyes that were on them and made an effort to smile back. He turned to the woman he had been speaking to. “Minister Aveso, if you’ll excuse me.”

She smiled brightly. “No, of course. I understand, young love and all that. I have to yell at Danksworth about funding for the Hillsborough arts council anyway.” She waved cheerfully at both of them and then turned her wheelchair around, presumably to hunt down Danksworth.

Dara walked over to Álvaro. “Hi.”

Dara had never seen someone look so puzzled at a simple greeting. “Hello?”

“How have you been? How’s your day been going?”

“Good? It has been good. How’s yours?”

Dara’s smile sharpened when he was presented with the opening. “Better now I’m talking to you.” Dara couldn't get past the faraday crown but he could see Álvaro’s thoughts flatlining just fine. “I, uhm, I brought your coat. Thanks for lending it to me.” He bashfully held it out to Álvaro.

Álvaro took it and slung it over his shoulder. “No problem. Could we speak in private?”

Dara bounced on his feet and widened his smile. “You want to- Yes! Okay. I know somewhere.” Then he grabbed Álvaro’s hand and led him out of the room where everyone was _itching_ to talk about what they’d seen. “Did the meeting go well?”

“It went fine.”

“Have you met all the ministers yet?”

“Not all, I met the ministers of finance, agriculture, energy and arts and culture.”

“Oh, boring aren't they?”

“I have to admit that I only enjoy spending time with minister Aveso,” Álvaro said begrudgingly.

Dara threw his head back and laughed. “Same, at least she can talk about something other than politics and she called Lehrer a dick to his face, still don't know how she got away with that but I want her to teach me.”

Álvaro raised his eyebrows. “She dislikes Lehrer?”

Dara shrugged. “What’s not to dislike?” He pushed open the door to the courtyard and tried to find a secluded spot.

“She’s in his cabinet.”

Dara gave him a sideways look. “Let’s make one thing clear here, Álvaro. This isn't a democracy, this is an absolute monarchy. Everything has to go through Lehrer because there are no other options, he does not allow people to play any game but his.”

“Why?”

“That way the house always wins.”

Álvaro frowned at him, god dara hated how expressive his face was. “Does Lehrer believe he’s appointed by God?”

Dara wrinkled his nose. “No,I don't think so. Why would you think that?”

Álvaro shrugged. “Isn't that the deal with an absolute monarchy?”

“You’re thinking of droit divin. In the past everyone did believe that the king was appointed by God to lead but it’s possible to have an absolute monarchy without it. I don't think Lehrer thinks he has been given the divine right to rule if only because he would find the notion that he got where he is by anything other than his own cunning insulting.” 

Álvaro narrowed his eyes. “Hm.”

“How do you know this anyway? Didn't you drop out when you were like 12?”

Álvaro bit the inside of his cheek. “Just because I don't have a fancy education doesn't mean I’m dumb,” he answered after exactly ten seconds.

“I just figured you were a jock.”

“You just figured I was stupid,” Álvaro said flatly.

“Not stupid. Just less interested in academia.”

Álvaro shook his head. “Why are we here?”

Dara clasped his hands together. “Because we need to look young and in love.”

“Why leave then? We could have done it over there.”

“Because now everyone is going to think we’re rolling around in the bushes while spreading the tasty bite of gossip they just witnessed.” Dara could hear their minds whir excitedly, eager to be the first to tell what they saw. Dara Shirazi with an Atlantian, it didn't get better than this. He thought about how predictable people were and hated himself for it because that was something Lehrer would think. Dara let his gaze linger on Álvaro and took a step closer. “They’ll probably come to try and catch us in the act.”

Álvaro’s ears turned red but he unconsciously leaned forward. “Yeah?”

Dara felt his stomach clench at the deeping of his voice. He lightly ran his hand up Álvaro’s chest. “Yeah.” He felt one of Álvaro’s hands settle on his hip while the other cupped his jaw, Dara’s eyes fluttered shut as Álvaro leaned forward 

They sprung apart at the sound of a picture being taken. Álvaro snapped his head around to look at the offending party. A woman with a startled look on her face and her phone still in her hand. 

“You-” Álvaro started, his face like an angry thundercloud.

Dara grabbed him by the upper arms. “It’s fine. Don't bother with her.” Then he gave her a venomous look. “Do you mind, Catherine?” She startled at hearing her name and with one last nervous look at Álvaro turned and left.

“That’s going to be everywhere if I don't delete it.”

“Good. That's what we want.” He turned Álvaro’s face towards him. “We need everyone to think we’re a couple.”

“You are fine with acting like this forever?”

Dara shrugged one shoulder and trailed soft patterns into Álvaro’s skin. “All the worlds a stage.”

Álvaro firmly wrapped his arms around Dara’s waist, who tried not to gasp at the pressure on his bruises. “I don't understand your motives.”

Dara tipped forward and pressed a kiss to Álvaro’s jawline. “You don't need to know my motives, my dearest fiancé. Just smile and wave.”

“She’s already uploaded it.”

“Good.”

“I hate this game.”

Dara smiled. “Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Courtny love prays to Oregon by clementine von Radics. Ill post the rest later. Sorry I'm really frantic!
> 
> Anyway I love comments and kudos pls come cry with me about the sadness I've created myself. 
> 
> anyway I'm going to go and read more about jewish wedding rituals and figuring out how orthodox Lehrer is.


	4. And the world laughs.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His eyes were blank. He didn't look happy. That wouldn't do. Lehrer expected them to be happy. Everybody expected them to be happy.
> 
> It was their wedding day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having a shitty, shitty week but I did finish this chapter on time so take that failing health.
> 
> Again I am not jewish, I did a lot of research and I hoped I did at least okay.
> 
> I might not always have a poem but maybe sometimes a song lyric (yes I know) or a Tumblr post (Yes I Know) but I am buying poetry books to celebrate getting high grades so they will be there. I'm also planning on buying letters to Vera from Vladimir Nabokov bc I want to do something cute with later chapters and like this man is very eloquent and loves his wife and I love that.

Dara blankly stared down at the options in front of him. He heard Lehrer sigh behind him as he pulled out the chair next to him. “Do you really have no preference?”

“No. You choose.”

“You haven't even tried them.”

“I don't like any cake.”

“How about this one?” Lehrer asked. “You like green tea.”

“But not in cake.”

“Let’s just set it aside as an option.”

Dara threw a disgusted look at the piece but didn't protest. “Why can't Álvaro choose the cake flavor and all the other things that apparently come with a wedding?”

“He has work, my dear. He also doesn't seem like someone who cares too much about trivial things.”

“If it’s so trivial, why do I have to do it. Cinthy is taking care of most other things already. 

“I thought you would appreciate getting a choice in the proceedings.”

“An illusion of choice you mean. Did you think getting to choose cake flavors would lessen the sting of being handed off like a sack of gold?”

Lehrer closed his eyes and sighed through his nose. “Dara, I’ve had a long day and I’m very tired can we please not have this conversation right now?” Dara just clenched his jaw. “What about flower arrangements? You like plants. Or you can pick a suit.”

“I want Ames there.” He hadn't seen her in, God, how long had it been? 3 years?

“I know but we can't always get what we want in life.” Lehrer gave him a long look. “You’re tired today, I think it’s best if you go home. Take a bath, read a book, just relax for a bit. Hm?” He laid his arm around Dara’s shoulders and pulled him close. “I know you're nervous, dearest, but everything’s going to be fine, Noam always loves your choices, he'll be happy with whatever you do.” Dara could feel the minds of the couple that ran the bakery go mushy at Lehrer’s little play. Lehrer turned to them with a regretful smile. “I apologize but I’m afraid we will have to come back at another date.”

“Oh, don't worry about it, it's not a problem at all. Spouses-to-be have difficulty choosing all the time. All this must be overwhelming, especially for a young thing like you.”

Dara smiled shyly. “Thank you for understanding. It’s very difficult to choose, everything is just so amazing.”

She beamed at his compliment. “It’s no problem, take as long as you need.”

“Maybe having the other groom here would help,” her wife suggested dryly.

“Marianne! Don't be rude. Sorry about that. But will we see him?” she didn't quite manage to keep the greedy light out of her eyes.

Dara contorted his face into an expression of utter sadness. “No, he can't make it. His superiors keep him so busy he can't fly here a lot.” He hadn't seen Álvaro often, just the occasional fake dates arranged by Lehrer and Brennan to be photographed by the masses. Headline after headline combined with leaked pictures by Lehrer had slowly started to make people warm up to the idea of them together. Pictures of them circulated all over social media along with biased news articles about this brand new power couple had done their job well and people couldn't wait for the wedding. #Noara was trending for 3 days after Dara was photographed with an engagement ring. They didn't spend time together when they didn't have to, Dara was marched back to the apartment and Álvaro talked to Lehrer until deep in the night. Dara could hear them laughing in the study from where he was curled up on the floor. The only thing he could do was press the ice pack harder against his bruises and pretend he didn't care.

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. At least your father is here to help you.”

“And I'm _so_ grateful for that.”

“It’s no issue, my dear,” Lehrer murmured. “We should get going. My assistant will keep in contact with you. Have a wonderful day.”

“Come back soon!”

Dara smiled and waved at them as Lehrer gently pushed him out of the door and into the car. Dara leaned his head against the window. “It’s not difficult. We’ve already secured the venue, the guests, the invitations, the seating, the photographer, the camera’s. You just have to sort out a few minor details. Be grateful for that.”

Dara stared down at the ring around his finger. “It’s not a real wedding.”

“You can tell yourself that as often as you like but that doesn't make it true. You're going to marry Noam Álvaro and you're going to pretend to like it. You can't change this.”

“Where is it going to be?”

“Duke chapel.” Lehrer said.

“Not a synagogue?”

Lehrer gave him a wry smile. “We want to keep your wedding aimed at as many people as possible. Besides, people have weddings outside of synagogues all the time in this day and age.”

Dara bit his lip. “I wanted a jewish wedding.”

“You can have a jewish wedding in Duke chapel,” he said gently but his tone made it clear that this was not something up for discussion. “With whatever flowers you want and whatever cake you would like.”

“I just can’t choose the husband.” Lehrer sighed but from the corner of his eye Dara could see his lips turn up and for some reason that, out of all things, was what made Dara’s throat tighten. His phone buzzed in his pocket. 

**Cinthy** : _Are you still allergic to mango????_

 **Dara:** _Yes. Why would this have changed?_

 **Cinthy:** _like a deathly allergic or a mouth loses feeling allergic?_

 **Dara:** _Like a I can’t breath and faint and might need a hospital allergic._

 **Cinthy:** _boo._

“Can I fire her?”

“No.” 

The months crawled by and the date of the wedding was fast approaching. Dara’s dread built and built until it felt like a live thing scraping away at his stomach lining. 

Everyone around him was frantic with making sure the wedding would go smoothly. Everyone except Lehrer who watched Dara with the lazy satisfaction of a lion that had managed to get a fat kill. 

Today it was time to pick a suit. Or so Dara was told. He wouldn't actually be picking out a suit, that had already been done but he would need to come in so they could make sure everything fit and he was allowed to comment on certain details. He was sure that if this was a real wedding with a real person Dara would be nearly out of his mind with the need to make sure the suit was perfect. As it was he could barely stand still long enough to let the tailor look at him. “Why are we doing this now?”

Lehrer didn't look up from his phone. “Because you're losing weight at a pace that is near frightening and we couldn't risk fitting it earlier. I’m sure you would have done everything in your power to embarrass yourself.”

Dara rolled his eyes. “I was told I was fat.”

“Where did you get that from?” Lehrer cooed. “Don't tell me you’ve started hearing voices on top of everything else.” 

Dara sighed. “Why are you here? Don't you have to run, I don't know, a country?”

“I’m trying to be supportive-”

“Maybe you should find a different hobby because you're very bad at it,” Dara snapped.

“Pet.” Lehrer’s tone was as sharp as the withering look he shot Dara. “I don't appreciate being interrupted. We’ve talked about this.” Dara just pressed his lips together and looked at his shoes. “Fine, if my presence stresses you out I’ll leave you alone.”

“Aren't you scared I’ll make a run for it? Elope with someone else?”

Lehrer chuckled and stepped closer. “If you try anything I’ll drag you back by your hair and make sure you won't be capable of saying anything but please and thank you for the rest of your short, miserable life.” He cradled Dara’s cheek, ignoring his flinching. “Power like you have is only useful as long as the one wielding it isn't a nuisance and you are fast approaching your expiration date, my dear.”

Dara wanted to make some remark, something about Lehrer sounding like the pedophile he was perhaps but the words jammed in his throat. Because he was scared. _Weak_. Lehrer knew it too and it pleased him, he smiled and stroked his thumb over his cheek and tapped it once before letting him go. “I want you home before eight.”

Dara didn't want to go back.

He was there at seven-thirty.

* * *

Dara didn't feel anything when he woke up the day of the wedding, the day of _his_ wedding. 

He didn't eat breakfast. Or lunch. Fasting, he told Lehrer. Who gave him an unimpressed look. It was a flimsy excuse, Dara had never taken a lot of interest in jewish traditions and he had no way of knowing if Álvaro was fasting so Lehrer decided to go the easiest route and give Dara a dose of suppressant. Ordering him to eat and to stay calm. _Don't make a scene._

There were camera’s when he stepped out. All flashing and shouting and asking questions, Dara was almost grateful for Lehrer’s violation. At least he wouldn't have a breakdown on live television. He blinked and they were in duke chapel, the rabbi greeted him, she was smiling, he should smile back, probably, that’s what Lehrer grinding the fine bones in his arm together meant. He did, he thinks. She looked happy enough. 

Cinthy looked happy too and Dara was almost jolted enough by the annoyance of seeing her again that he started feeling again.

Ames did not look happy.

Ames.

She hugged him close. “I’m here,” she whispered. Dara felt himself start to tear up. _Don't make a scene._ His eyes were dry again when he looked at her. 

“I missed you.”

“You better.” She smiled, quick and pained and Dara was overwhelmed by the love he had for her.

He was brought somewhere else. With Álvaro this time. He was in a suit too. Dara wondered who had paid for it. His eyes were blank. He didn't look happy. That wouldn't do. Lehrer expected them to be happy. Everybody expected them to be happy. It was their wedding day.

People were looking at him.

“What?” he asked.

“The ketubah?” the rabbi asked, unsure. _What was her name again?_

“Sign it,” Lehrer whispered in his ear and Dara’s hand moved to put his name next to Álvaro’s. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to slash at himself until he was on the ground in pieces no bigger than grains of sand.

Now was the moment the camera’s would turn on. “Try to smile, liebling.” The command pressed itself up to Dara’s mind, trying to get in but the suppressant must have been wearing off because dara’s mouth didn't soften of its own accord. 

“You’ll be okay,” Ames said.

“I think you need to leave Carter.” Lehrer’s eyes were so cold Dara could feel them and they weren't even on him, but Ames just grit her teeth.

“I’m better at keeping him calm than you are, asshole.” Lehrer looked ready to drag her to a storage closet and snap her neck but his eyes flickered to Dara’s face and what he saw must have been bad enough that he let her take Dara’s other hand. “You’ll be okay. You won't have to do anything you don't want to.”

A glance at Lehrer’s blank face told him otherwise but he didn't say anything, just squeezed her hand. 

The Chuppah was gorgeous. Flowers cascading down. Dara focused on that instead of all the eyes on them. Taye and Bethany were already there along with whoever Álvaro had chosen. Dara was still staring at the flowers when Álvaro was escorted down the aisle by Thomas Brennan and Linda, she smiled at both of them when they arrived and Dara remembered his own smile.

“Hi again,” he whispered to Álvaro who gave him a slightly strained grin in return.

“Come here often?” It was a stupid joke and it was probably the nerves that made Dara laugh but it would have to do. Álvaro circled him three times. Then Dara did the same to him. Then they had to do it together. Both smiling with dead eyes all the while. Their rings were gold. It was one of the few things Dara had insisted on, he liked gold, he thought it looked good on him and if he had to wear this ring until either the man at his back or the one in front of him killed him he could at least make sure it was pretty.

The rabbi was speaking, Dara should listen. It would be rude not to but he couldn't quite get himself to be present. How long did he have to stay here? After the sheva brachot there was the breaking of glass then the yichud and then dancing. A lot of dancing. And pictures probably. And congratulations. And then Álvaro would get to take him home.

Álvaro grabbed his hands, drawing his attention back to the present. He nodded meaningfully to the bag that was laid between them. “On three?”

“Yes.” Álvaro mouthed the words and then both stomped down. The cheering of the guests following the crack of glass was deafening and Dara almost flinched back at the sound but Álvaro held fast. Even Lehrer was smiling, a broad, proud smile for the camera’s but the vicious satisfaction gleaming in them was for Dara only. 

Álvaro and him were ushered to a room, Dara didn't know where, his head was spinning. “Please take care to come back decent,” Lehrer teased to Álvaro who blushed furiously. Then it was quieter. Eight minutes. Dara pressed his back to the wall and tried to breath. Álvaro nosed through the food on the table.

“You hungry?”

“No.”

“That was quite the ordeal.”

“Sure.”

“Are you doing alright?”

“Yes, it’s just a lot.” Álvaro hummed in assent. “What’s that?”

“Hm? Oh, Linda baked cookies. Want some?”

 _Are you going to hit me for being an ungrateful brat if I don't?_ “No, thank you.”

Álvaro shrugged. “Your loss.” and continued to stuff his face.”

There was noise and dancing and more eyes. They were hoisted up, the motion almost startling Dara back to the present, and Álvaro laughed wildly, yelling something at one of the people holding the chairs but Dara couldn't comprehend it. Dara barely managed to keep smiling.

They were let down eventually.

Álvaro was silent on the car ride to the apartment, he stared out of the window with an angry look in his eyes and it made Dara nervous for what was coming. Álvaro thanked the driver quietly and they got out of the car. He put a steady hand on the middle of Dara’s back to lead him into the building. He let go of him as soon as the elevator doors closed. Dara hated faraday, hated how it left him blind, he had no idea what Álvaro was going to do to him and for a second the cold profile of the man next to him was Lehrer’s, then Álvaro looked at him with brown eyes but Dara didn't feel better.

When the doors opened Álvaro whistled low. It was big, airy and empty. Dara would have loved it if it had come from anyone else. Álvaro took a hesitant step into the apartment. “Is this all ours?” he asked haltingly.

“Yes.”

“Oh,” Álvaro said with a small voice. He started to wander around with a craned neck. Dara walked over to the couch and poured himself a glass of scotch. _To a happy marriage - your father_ it said on the side. He grimaced but slammed back the drink and poured himself another one anyway. Everything was fine, Álvaro couldn't do anything to him that Lehrer hadn't done a thousand times over.

Dara didn't know how long he was staring at the window and drinking but eventually Álvaro came back into the living room with his tie unknotted and his jacket thrown over his arm and Dara was sure, so sure, that he was going to hold out his hand and demand Dara come to him. Dara wouldn't struggle but he wasn't exactly excited either. He thought back to Ames’s serious gaze, adamant that he could say no, she didn't understand that there was power in saying yes. Power Dara needed right now. “It’s really big.” Dara glared at him. Álvaro cleared his throat awkwardly. “So which bedroom do you want?”

“What?”

“There’s two, which one do you want?”

Dara faltered. “I- I don't care.” He sounded unsure even to himself.

Álvaro shrugged. “I’ll just let you have the master bedroom then, it has more closet space. Give me ten minutes to get all my boxes out.”

“Okay,” Dara said numbly. Álvaro climbed the spiral staircase again and a minute later Dara could hear him walk back and forth between what must be the master and second bedroom. Álvaro walked back down with both hands in his pockets, he paused halfway on the stairs. 

“All done.” He shuffled his feet. “Goodnight.” He turned around and walked back up. Dara could hear the water of the shower running. It shut off shortly after. Dara saw the lights turn off and the door closed with a soft click, the key turned into the lock and then it was silent. He didn't get up. Surely Álvaro would take off his crown. He didn't know Dara’s presenting power. The crown was for Lehrer and he was far away. But the shields surrounding Álvaro’s mind didn't fall. At least not before magical wards neatly slotted into each other, covering the room in the faintest sheen.

Eventually he stood up, catching himself against the armrest of the couch. He stumbled upstairs and into what was apparently his bedroom. It confused him but he would accept the mercy, small as it was. 

Just because Álvaro didn't want anything now didn't mean he wouldn't come asking later.

Dara sighed and rolled his head backwards so he could stare at the bare ceiling. Álvaro must be asleep by now. He bit his lip and then reached out with his telepathy. He wondered where Álvaro had learned how to create magic shields. The faraday crown’s defences were odd. He couldn't read Lehrer’s mind, whenever he tried it felt vague, there was only the barely there outline of a person. If Dara really pressed it would feel like static pressing against the back of his eyes and he would get dizzy. With faraday it felt like he was slamming his head repeatedly against a metal wall.

Was Álvaro still awake or did he sleep with the thing on? Dara turned to look at the locked door. He could tear the wards down, they weren't like Lehrer’s but they couldn't be that different, Dara could figure it out if he really tried.

Tomorrow maybe.

He pulled off his suit with as much contempt as he could manage and crawled into bed. He pulled a pillow over his face, closed his eyes as tight as possible and desperately tried to wake up.

* * *

Álvaro was already gone in the morning. Dara tried his door but it was locked. He considered using magic to try and break the wards but Álvaro might notice. It would be better to lull him into a false sense of security.

He spinned around listlessly and frowned to himself. He should unpack, at least the basics. 

He didn't , instead he started to circle around the apartment. The second floor held his and Álvaro’s bedrooms along with their corresponding bathrooms. He walked further down the hall and found a den filled with a tv and plush chairs. He climbed another set of stairs and stepped outside. He was greeted with a garden and a swimming pool. He laughed at the fact that Lehrer was willing to spend millions on him but couldn't make himself care for even a single second. He explored the other rooms on the first floor before going back to the living room where he had drunken himself stupid the night before and looked at the view. 

Despite everything it was beautiful.

He didn't know how long he stood there before his phone buzzed. A message from the front desk saying _this person would like to visit. Accept or Deny?_ Along with a picture of a disgruntled Ames. “Accept,” Dara said. 

The screen lit up green. _Very well._

“Grant her permanent access.”

It beeped once. _We apologize but we can’t grant people permanent access without the permission of both owners. Shall we send a request to mister Álvaro?_ the system asked.

“No, I will discuss it with him later.”

_Very well, mister Álvaro._

Dara flinched at the name. “I’m not Álvaro.”

_You are not Dara Álvaro?_

“My name is Dara _Shirazi,_ ” Dara snapped.

_We do not know of a Dara Shirazi, we only have a Dara Álvaro formerly Shirazi._

“Yes, that’s me,” Dara said with gritted teeth. “I want to be addressed as Shirazi. Please.”

 _Very well, mister Shirazi,_ the system conceded. 

Dara took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. He started rummaging through the cabinet to find glasses and set them down on the table as Ames started knocking on the door. “Dara! Open up, I want to know if you killed your husband yet.” 

He pulled open the door with a little flair. “Welcome, madam.”

Her face flickered with relief at his returned liveliness but she quickly hid it behind a smirk “Hey, boyfriend. How you doing?”

“Well, I’ve got good booze and a flaming hot husband. I could only be doing good.”

Her face fell. “Did he…?”

“No,” Dara said curtly. “He didn't.”

“Good. I mean, I didn't think he would, Álvaro’s not like that. And you could have fought him off, of course.” Dara turned his face away sharply. “You could take him in a fight. Not that there’s going to be a fight but you-”

“I can't fight him.”

“He’s your husband, not your owner.”

“What’s the difference?”  
  
“Dara,” Ames said softly. “You don't have to.” Dara didn't say anything. “You don't have to do anything you don't want to. If he tries anything I will kick his ass, promise.” 

Dara smiled and nudged her playfully. “Let me get you a drink.”

“I’m serious Dara.”

“What would you know?”

“I’ve met him a couple times.”

Dara paused on his way to the decanter. “You never said.”

Images of tense meetings with drawn faced people gleamed from the corner of Ames’s mind. Álvaro among them, a younger version of him but the severity of his face had been there even then. “It wasn't very exciting. Just,” she waved her hand in the air, “failed peace talks.”

Except that wasn't the whole truth. “You’ve fought him.”

Ames crossed her arms over her chest and squared her shoulders, a gesture she made when she felt uncomfortable or threatened. “Yes, I have. He’s good. Very good. Technopathy is closely bound with magnetism and ferrokinesis, all are useful in war.” Her mind stayed carefully blank, probably to avoid scaring him but it had the opposite effect. What could be so bad that she didn't want him to see it.

Dara poured both of them a glass. “What was he like in peace negotiations?”

Ames shrugged. “Mostly stuck to the background. Didn't say much but I don't think he was a fan. We saw a lot of Brennan, he wanted peace really badly but I think Álvaro wanted to fight to the bitter end.”

“A ‘if I can’t have this no one can’ mentality?”

“No, not exactly. More… very ready to die for his country. Or rather dying than living under our leadership thing.”

“He seems the type. Here.”

Dara drained his glass but Ames shifted her feet uncomfortably. “I don't really do that anymore.”

“What?”

“My dad put me into rehab. And I need to stay sober to be able to reach my ambitions so…”

Right. Everything was different here in the real world. “Oh. Well, more for me.” 

Ames fiddled with her sleeves. She changed the subject before it could get too awkward. “I think that if you get to know Álvaro you two might get along.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Ames’s face fell but she didn't push. “How’s the new place?”

Dara shrugged. “It will do.”

“Dara this is fucking huge.”

Dara put his glass down and made a doubtful face. “Hm.”

Ames laughed. “You’re a snob, Shirazi.”

Dara laughed too. “Damn straight.” He put his hands on his hips and turned to look at the apartment. “If Lehrer is going to sell me to the highest bidder he better give me a pretty cage to sit in.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

Ames sighed. “They didn't tell me they were going to bargain you. If I had known I would have stopped it.”

“I know. You're a good friend.”

“It has to be at the very least better than Lehrer.”

Dara snorted. “How bad does someone have to be before being traded to an enemy soldier as a dressed up hostage is seen as better?”

Ames walked up next to him and gently nudged him with her hip. “The worst.”

Dara sighed. “I don't know what happens now. I mean I never thought things would turn out alright but I figured being a trophy wife wasn't in the cards. You know, if you don't count the Lehrer situation.”

Ames shrugged. “Maybe this is a chance.”

Dara gave her a skeptical look. “To be free?”

“I mean,” Ames’s mind started to glitter with hope, “Lehrer can't get to you as long as you belong to your husband, right? He can't stop you. Maybe you can see this as an opportunity.”

Dara studied her, she had changed little on the outside but he could feel that she was different, less rash, less idealistic but still caring, still his friend despite everything. ”I know that you want me to be happy, Ames, but-”

“Can’t you try?” she burst out. Dara took a step back at the tears in her eyes. She quickly turned around. “Sorry, I’m on my period.” Her mind flashed a dull red with the lie.

“Hey.” Dara hovered his hands over her shoulders awkwardly for a second before embracing her from behind. “I’m sorry. I promise, I’ll try to make the best of it. And I know I’m shit at keeping promises but-”

Ames choked out a laugh. “Are you getting emotional with me?”

Dara buried his face in her shoulder. “I’m also on my period.” Ames laughed again and turned around to embrace him, leaning forward to dig her chin into his shoulder, something that wasn't comfortable for either of them but she still insisted on doing.

After a long moment he let go of her. “Come, I’ll show you around.” Ames whistled at the balcony and tried to push him in the pool and when it was time for her to leave Dara felt lighter than he had in years. 

When the apartment was quiet again Dara stretched his arms over his head and wandered over to the kitchen. He realized he didn't know what he was going to eat. Lehrer had always cooked for him but Dara didn't know how to himself, Álvaro might but he still wasn't back. Maybe he should order something. Dara wasn't hungry but the fact that he had access to money again was thrilling enough to convince him, he would order something, just to check if Lehrer was messing with him. He aimlessly scrolled through menus on his phone until he got to some sort of salad bar that delivered. He contemplated texting Álvaro but decided against it, Dara didn't really care if he ate or not. 

When he was done with picking through his food he awkwardly sat on the couch, he realized that he had no idea where Álvaro was and if he was coming home or not. He waited until the stars came out and the moon started to travel through the sky but Álvaro didn't come back. Dara didn't care about the man but he didn't enjoy being lonely either.

Much later he was startled by the door opening and closing. Álvaro was in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt when he looked up to catch Dara’s eyes. He falters for a second but then averts his gaze and walked briskly towards his room, the door locks behind him again, leaving Dara to stare at the bare stairs in contempt.

He could go to hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my grief says the same thing:  
> this isn't how it's supposed to be.  
> this isn't how it's supposed to be.  
> And the world laughs.  
> Holds my hope by the throat.  
> says:  
> but this is how it is.  
> \- Fortesa Lafiti
> 
> I have a lot of emotions and a lot of opinions and some regrets but I can look at myself knowing I did the right thing although not in the right way. It's good to stand up for your friends, it's good to stand up to your friends and silence is also a choice. These are things I know for sure.  
> Anyway I got into a little row and I am processing rn and thinking about this fandom and if I want to be part of it (not fic writing but more on interaction in other spaces. How far I want to be part of it might be a better way of saying it?). Like it's done but I'm not sure how bad the damage is or how long it is before things will be alright. Also not sure about how to proceed and ngl I do feel bad but also righteous.
> 
> Anyway end rant. How are you doing? I'm sorry there's still no fluff (it will come soon) but I do hope you like the chapter!
> 
> I'm so fucking excited because I've made so much progress on Prayer for persephone and I'm almost done with the first draft I can feel like it's going to stay largely the same because I'm editing it as I write and I don't think I'm going to change my mind on anything major and I have a vacation!! So I'm so close I hope I made the wait worth it!


	5. I'll be the star. You can be the horrified one.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Álvaro met his gaze with a dry look. “Honey, I’m home.”
> 
> Dara frowned at him. “Why?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sexy and update regularly.

Things didn't change.

Álvaro would stay at his work as a minister or whatever position Lehrer had pinned on him and Dara would waste away in the penthouse until his husband came back at some ungodly hour just to ignore him further.

Which was  _ fine _ .

Dara hated that his one chance at human interaction was with someone that despised being near him. Ames, Taye and Bethany texted him as often as possible but both Ames and Taye had their hands full with the annexing of Atlantia and all the tension that came with it and Bethany’s schoolwork had increased this year, she had been sent out often during war time as a healer which left less time for her training, something she had to catch up on now. Even Lehrer had been ignoring him and Dara was disgusted at himself for being desperate enough to want  _ Lehrer _ to talk to him.

Dara had been reading a lot and trying to cook because take out was getting boring. He wasn't good yet but he did enjoy it. Most of it was wasted because Dara still didn't want to eat too much and Álvaro must be getting his food somewhere else because he never touched any of the things Dara stored in the freezer.

Tonight was exactly the same except for the fact that the door opened around seven. Dara froze and quickly turned the furnace to a lower setting before grabbing a knife and tucking it in the back of his pants.

Álvaro met his gaze with a dry look. “Honey, I’m home.”

Dara frowned at him. “Why?”

Álvaro draped his blazer over the back of the couch. “Not to kill you so you can drop the knife.” Dara glared at him but slid the knife out of his pants and held it loosely in his hand. Álvaro flicked his eyes over to him and with a lazy curl of his finger it was torn from Dara’s grip and sailed over to him.

“Hey!”

“I’ll hold it for you,” he said evenly with a blank smile. “What are you cooking?”

Dara narrowed his eyes at him. “Pasta.”

“Sounds good.”

“Who said it’s for you?”

Álvaro gave him a cool look. “I can make my own if you want but it just seems like a waste, especially since you barely seem to eat any of it.”

“I don't eat much,” Dara mumbled.

After a thoughtful moment Álvaro looked at him again. “Can I have the leftovers?”

“Yes. Why?”

“To donate. We can't eat all of it.”

“Donate to whom?”

Álvaro set the knife on the counter and gave him another on edge smile. “People who need it more than we do.” He said it as if speaking to a child and Dara bristled at his tone.

“Well I’m sorry for asking.” He went back to his cooking as Álvaro lazily shifted through the cabinets to find cutlery. They ate in awkward silence. The air was so tense that Dara had to force himself to press food down his throat, a problem Álvaro didn't seem to have and Dara resented him for that too. “Did you get fired or something?”

Álvaro looked up from his food. “Hm?”

“Did you get fired? Is that why you're here?”

Álvaro shook his head. “Can’t I just come home for dinner?”

“You haven't done it before.”

“We’ve only been married for two weeks or something.”

Dara gave him a flat look. “A month, in which you haven't been interested in coming home for dinner.”

Álvaro leaned back in his chair and regarded him silently. “Don't tell me you missed me.”

Dara bristled. “Do you have something against answering questions directly?”

Álvaro held his hands up in lazy surrender, every movement dripping with self confidence. “Your father kicked me out of his office. Apparently I’ve been working too hard and staying out late every night when you have a new husband waiting for you at home doesn't look good. Happy now?” 

Dara was considering which part of that sentence he wanted to pick a fight over first when Álvaro interrupted his thoughts with, “This is delicious.”

Dara gave him a haughty look. “Don't act so surprised.”

Álvaro put down his cutlery. “Do you make everything a fight?”

“Do you?”

“Dara.”

“You’re acting awfully familiar all of a sudden.”

“We’re married, we need to look the part.”

Dara sipped his water. “Only where people can see. As you seem to have forgotten  _ I _ am a wonderful actor who has zero problem with playing my part.”

Álvaro chewed slowly. “Right.” They continued to eat in tense silence. Álvaro cleared his throat. “I got a notification that Carter Ames had stopped by a while ago.” It wasn't a question so Dara didn't answer. “Are you two friends.”

“Besties,” Dara answered sarcastically. “I need you to grant her permanent access.”

Álvaro stilled. “Why?”

“Because she’s my friend and she’s going to come by often.”

He studied Dara carefully. “I don't think that’s a good idea.”

Dara glared at him. “I’m not asking you to give her a set of keys, I'm asking you so I don't have to approve her every time she comes over.”

Álvaro continued eating. “I said I don't think it’s a good idea.”

“Oh, did you?”

“Yes.”

“You can't make me do anything.”

Álvaro raised his eyebrows. “This is our house and I’m not comfortable with someone entering our home without me being informed.”

“I can just tell you.”

Álvaro gave him an amused look. “Hm.” He wasn't angry yet but he would be, he could pretend to be calm and gentle all he liked but Dara knew that every man had his limits. Better to find out where those were early, that way it wouldn't destroy him like it had with Lehrer

Dara clenched his fists. “I’m not your property.”

“This penthouse is.”

“You cannot decide what I can and can't do.”

“I cannot and I do not want to, I am however uncomfortable with the idea of giving someone who was very recently my enemy access to my house. The food was delicious, I will clean up.”

Dara looked down at his plate. “I will do it.”

“You already-”

“Get out of my sight.” He heard Álvaro sigh and the sound of his plate being put down again, retreating footsteps back towards the living room. Dara cleaned the kitchen with jerky motions before opening up a bottle of vodka (yikes) and downing at least a quarter of it. Maybe more, he wasn't sure. But the alcohol didn't make the anger go away, in fact it made it worse. Heated it up, ignited it. All of a sudden he was livid, at Álvaro, at Lehrer, at himself, at that stupid AI that called him ‘mister Álvaro’, confirming yet again that he wasn't his own person, that he wasn't real if he didn't exist for someone else’s pleasure. He smiled bitterly to himself, he was property. 

He pushed himself off the table and tried not to think about what a nightmare the stairs were going to be. As he stumbled into the living room he was caught off guard by Álvaro’s hand dangling over the back of the couch. He didn't react to Dara coming into the room. Asleep, Dara realised. 

This was his chance.

Lehrer had told him to get information, but more importantly he could find out how badly Álvaro was going to snap. He had lost the war he had to be full of resentment, and Dara was the son of the man who took everything from him. Living with Lehrer had been excruciating but he had known what to expect for the most part. This constant lack of certainty made Dara itch in a way that made the desire to peel his skin off flare up. 

He walked slowly towards the couch, taking care not to move his weight too fast.

Álvaro’s face came into sight, he was sleeping, eyes closed, mouth slack. 

Faraday crown resting on his head.

Dara weighed his options. His fine motor control was shit right now but telekinesis was difficult to measure when he was like this. When he held his hand up to his face he realized he was shaking. Magic it was.

Slowly, so slowly he reached out towards the crown. He took a gentle hold of it with telekinesis and lifted it, just slightly, upwards. When Álvaro didn't wake up screaming bloody murder Dara shifted it further. He gently raised Álvaro’s head so the circlet could slide off easier. Dara wet his lips and took hold of the crown again. Almost.  _ Almost _ .

He had a second to register that Álvaro’s eyes snapped open before he was thrown against the wall so hard he saw stars. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Álvaro thundered. Panic closed Dara’s throat and he could only stare in fear. Álvaro jumped over the couch and paced towards him, hauling him up by the collar of his shirt. “Huh? Answer me!” Instead of doing that Dara brought his knee up to kick Álvaro in the stomach but he just moved closer so that it was harmless. Dara lashed out with his hand to punch Álvaro in the face but the man caught his arm and roughly turned him around to press his face into the wall. Dara was certain he was on the edge of a panic attack and let out a hysterical giggle at the familiar position. “This funny to you?” Dara didn't answer, just laughed again, or sobbed he wasn't sure. 

Then Álvaro let him go.

“Don't ever try that again,” he hissed as he stormed towards the stairs, leaving a panting Dara behind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Alicia Ostriker. In the twenty-fifth year of marriage, it goes on.
> 
> Somehow nothing is going on yet my ass is still being kicked so if I've been absent please forgive me I don't have much time or energy rn bc I've been focusing on my own writing.
> 
> I now what I said but next chapter will be better? Mostly?  
> (All the people who haven't read prayer for Persephone I'm so sorry that you have to sit through this again but) it's going well God just kicked my hubris back in my face with a reminder that I'm not fast at writing action scenes. However! They're almost done and then I'll have to make up a big speech and write the very end and then it's up! Also wrote a fun one shot with autistic Dara in between so that will also be up soon.


	6. You were looking at it, I was looking at you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time he spoke to Dara it was clearly begrudgingly. “We need to go out.”
> 
> Dara looked up carefully from his book. “Why?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thinking about maybe shortening the title also I want to wish you an early happy new year!

Álvaro was back even less after that. Anytime he was he would look at Dara with so much suspicion and contempt it made his stomach turn. He hadn't become violent yet but Dara was aware it was only a matter of time. Dara had stood next to enough powerful men to know how they worked, what happened when you scorned them. Normally he would turn soft, all big eyes and mellow apologies until their arrogance was placated enough and they were convinced that he understood his place. Then they would use him to cool off and everything would be fine again. Except Álvaro didn't seem to have any interest in hearing a single word from Dara, too repulsed to come within five feet of him and Dara started to become worried about his refusal to follow the familiar steps. What could he be waiting for?

The first time he spoke to Dara it was clearly begrudgingly. “We need to go out.”

Dara looked up carefully from his book. “Why?”

“Because it’s been long enough and people are starting to wonder. They want to see us together.”

“Another fake date.”

Álvaro turned towards the window and sighed. “Exactly.”

Dara averted his eyes from Álvaro’s tight posture. “When?”

“Tomorrow. There has been a walk in the park scheduled.”

“Alright.” 

Álvaro nodded once at that and stalked towards his room without looking at Dara.

The next morning Dara carefully laid out his clothes on his bed. What was he trying to convey? Someone who was happy and satisfied. Someone who was in love, just got done with his honeymoon, adored husband and wanted his attention. Bright colors but modest. He couldn't be accused of seeking attention from other men. Dara held up a thin red sweater with strings that could be tied into a bow around his neck. Dara threw it on and tied it in a lopsided bow, wishing he could grab them and tighten it until he fell dead.

He sighed and made his way downstairs. Álvaro was sitting on the couch and scrolling through his phone. “Are you done?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Álvaro stood up and walked out of the apartment. In the car they sat as far away from each other as possible. “So we just walk?” Dara asked eventually.

“Yes. Maybe get some coffee. Just,” Álvaro waved one hand vaguely, “have a date.”

Dara bit his lip. “What do people do on a date?”

Álvaro shrugged. “Eat. Talk. Enjoy each other's company.” He gave Dara a sideways glance. “Have you never done this before?”

Dara folded his arms. “Not really.”

“Really?”

“Is that surprising?”

Álvaro drummed his fingers on his thigh. “A little, I assumed you had a lot of relationship experience.”

“Not the kind where you whisper sweet nothings and share chocolate over candlelight, Álvaro.” Not that Dara wanted that, or would ever get it.

The car dropped them off at whatever park had been vetted for the publicity stunt. Álvaro got out and pulled open Dara’s door for him, smiling tightly. When Dara clambered out he laid a warm hand on the small of his back.

Dara arched his telepathy over the park. No one had recognized them yet. 

Álvaro led them aimlessly through the park, through bare trees with their thin fingers thrown up towards the sky and reflected back into the lake. “We only have to be here for a couple of hours so we can be seen.”

“Pictures of us wandering around silently while looking miserable aren't the objective here I assume.”

“No,” Álvaro sighed. “Any subjects you want to talk about?”

“I…” Dara hesitated. “I want to apologize for trying to take the crown.”

Álvaro raised his eyebrows. “Why?”

“Because it was stupid and wrong. I didn't mean any harm I promise.”

“Why?” Álvaro asked again, his tone sharper. _Don't play games with me._

Like Dara had any choice in that. “I was just curious, I- I wanted to see it up close, we don't have things like that in Carolinia. I was drunk and angry, I guess I thought bothering you was a good idea. I’m sorry.”

Álvaro studied his face for a long moment. Did he know about Dara's powers? He knew about Lehrer's but Dara's was a lot less flashy and all official documents said it was illusion. “Don't do it again.”

 _Does he know?_ “I won't.” _For now._

“Good.” Álvaro ducked his head. “I’m sorry for reacting like an asshole. It’s just that because of the fighting and everything. So I react badly sometimes to things like that, I didn't mean to go so far.” Álvaro shot him a tense look but seemed to taw a little at whatever he saw on Dara’s face. “How’ve you been?” he asked, he pressed his lips tightly together right after.

Dara laughed and pulled back a little to wrap both his arms around one of Álvaro’s. “Good, I've been good. What about you?”

Álvaro scratched the back of his neck and breathed out a laugh. “Good, uhm, thanks for asking.”

Dara pressed his hand against his mouth to stifle a giggle. “We’re really bad at this.”

A crooked grin graced Álvaro’s mouth. “Yeah.” Dara pressed his smile against Álvaro’s shoulder. Álvaro gestured towards a little coffee stand. “Want some?”

Dara shook his head. “I prefer tea.”

Álvaro smiled down at him. He was handsome like this, white teeth bright and the sunlight bringing out the red undertones in his hair “They might have that too, I can ask.”

Dara gave him a tiny smile back. “Please.”

Álvaro got them both a steaming cup of warmth. Dara sipped from his paper cup and leaned further into Álvaro’s body. “Your birthday is in two weeks right?

“The twenty fifth, yes.”

“Would you like anything?”

Dara shrugged bemusedly. “Good booze, a plant, a book. Just… pick one.”

“Do you normally celebrate it?”

Dara sighed. “Not the last couple of years.”

“What did you do last year?”

“Lehrer was going to let me go out and get alcohol poisoning but changed his mind and decided to get me engaged instead.” Dara smiled wryly at Álvaro’s shocked face.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Not a good memory, I presume.”

“Your presumption is correct.” Dara sipped his tea again and wished he had asked for something alcoholic instead of tea. Glühwein or something. It was one of the benefits of christmas. Lehrer always made the slightest hint of a face when he drank it yet he kept buying it every year and Dara didn't know why but it never stopped being funny so he wasn't going to complain.

“Would you like to celebrate it this year?”

Dara frowned as Álvaro pulled him from his thoughts. “What?”

“Would you like to celebrate it this year? Overwrite the bad memories and all that.”

“Celebrate it with you?”

“You don't have to! I mean I probably can't leave the apartment because not being invited to your husband's birthday party looks bad but I can stay in my room for a night.”

Dara frowned at him. “You would let me throw a party? With other people?”

Álvaro gave him a slightly mystified look. “Yes.” 

“Other people like Ames.”

“Yes.”

“So she's allowed in the house now?”

Álvaro averted his eyes. “I never said she wasn't allowed in the house but that I would prefer it if she can’t enter and leave as she wishes.” He hesitated. “But if it’s important to you and she stays away from my room we can talk about that more.”

Dara stared at him for a long time. “You're different from what I expected.”

“Thanks?” Álvaro tilted his head as he said it and it was almost adorable. “Which reminds me. How do you usually celebrate christmas?”

“I don't,” Dara said flatly.

“Oh, me neither. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t feeling pushed to let go of any personal customs. Or that I expect you to conform to mine. Though you're welcome to celebrate Hanukkah with me if you want. Now that I’ve got more free time and don't have to dodge bullets anymore I was hoping I could, I don't know, be more jewish I guess.”

Dara gave him a surprised look. “You’re jewish?”

“That’s not going to be a problem, right?”

“No, I’m also jewish.”

Álvaro raised his eyebrows but his surprise seemed to be positive. “Really? Ashkenazi?” 

“No, well, I guess. Lehrer is Ashkenazi but my parents were persian jews. So I grew up with his customs. Not that I do much with it.”

“Yeah me neither.” He gave Dara a careful look and seemed to steel himself. “Would you be interested in celebrating Hanukkah with me?”

Dara squeezed his arm. “I would love to.” Álvaro seemed surprised but he smiled. 

After that conversation seemed easier somehow. They didn't talk about anything important but Dara enjoyed himself anyway, even laughed at a few of Álvaro’s dry remarks. 

It was almost familiar. It felt… nice. It was easy to not shy away when Álvaro pulled him close and kissed his temple tenderly. Dara was actually disappointed when people sneakily started to post pictures of them because that meant the tabloids would be there soon. 

When it got colder they walked back to the entrance and waited on the car, heads bowed together like they held all the secrets in the world.

When they got home the conversation didn't halt, Álvaro didn't move to his room and Dara didn't become snappish or drunk, they kept chatting as Dara cooked dinner and Álvaro did the dishes. And later, with Dara curled up on the couch with a book, Álvaro paused on his way past the couch to say goodnight before going upstairs.

And Dara smiled to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you remember the night the moon dropped from the sky?
> 
> And we ran through the forest to find where it lie,
> 
> I was tripping on tree roots and slipping on snow,
> 
> You were holding my hand saying not to let go,
> 
> When we found it at last there were twigs in our hair,
> 
> A rose on our cheeks and our breath in the air,
> 
> And the words to describe it got caught in our thorats,
> 
> As its silver light danced through the threads of our coats,
> 
> We knew that our eyes had not seen such a view,
> 
> You were looking at it, I was looking at you.
> 
> \- Erin Hanson
> 
> Noam's finally figuring out how to live with a roommate lmao. I should just call this fic 'and they were roomates'


	7. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dara trailed his finger down the page until he got to the last part of his paragraph and closed his book. “What do you suggest?”
> 
> Álvaro shrugged. “Taking turns asking questions?”
> 
> Dara made a face. “Boring.”
> 
> “But effective.” 
> 
> Dara pouted. “Alright, but I go first and I get to ask whatever I want.”
> 
> Álvaro smiled. “Sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are Americans okay?

“We can't keep doing this forever,” Álvaro said as he handed Dara a cup of tea.

“Keep doing what?” Dara asked without looking up from his book.

“Living as barely more than strangers. I know we didn't really get along at first but I want to get to know you. It will also be useful for later if we need to seem in love.”

Dara trailed his finger down the page until he got to the last part of his paragraph and closed his book. “What do you suggest?”

Álvaro shrugged. “Taking turns asking questions?”

Dara made a face. “Boring.”

“But effective.” 

Dara pouted. “Alright, but I go first and I get to ask whatever I want.”

Álvaro smiled. “Sure.”

Dara bit his lip. _How are you going to kill me?_ “What’s your favorite color?”

“Going easy on me I see.”

Dara pulled his knees up to his chest. “You seem to have difficulty answering it so maybe it’s good I did.”

Álvaro’s smile broadened. “It’s red.”

“Red.”

“Yes. What’s yours?”

Dara cocked his head. “Hmm, black. Or maybe blue, or green. I can’t decide. What’s Linda to you?”

“Linda? She’s like… not a mother exactly but more than an aunt. I care about her a lot. What’s Carter Ames to you?”

“Ames is basically my only friend.”

“No others?”

Dara made a vague gesture. “I didn't get a chance to socialize a lot outside of level IV and Ames and I knew each other since we were very little, I had friends there but Ames knew everything. She’s like a sister.” Dara looked at Álvaro’s wary eyes.”Listen, I know you two fought each other and I know that until very recently she was your enemy but she’s important to me.” _She’s the only person I have._ “I didn't bring her into the apartment for nefarious purposes-”

Álvaro held up a calming hand. “I know, you don't have to explain yourself.” 

“Why don't you want her in the apartment?” 

Álvaro sucked in a breath through his teeth. “I’m fine with her being in the apartment as long as it isn't at crazy hours and she stays out of my room.”

“But you didn't want her here before.”

“That was unfair of me,” Álvaro admitted softly. “Like you said she was my enemy until recently and I’m not naive enough to believe everybody is going to be my friend now that there’s a treaty. So her presence makes me a bit uneasy. Happy?”

“Yes.”

“My turn then.” He studied Dara carefully and Dara got the sense he could see where the edges of his mind frayed and was considering if it was worth pulling at them. “Where’ve you been the last couple of years?”

Dara shot him a warning glance. “Elaborate.”

Álvaro studied him for a tense moment and Dara hoped he was coming up with a different question but then he said, “You were often seen in public although your identity wasn't public knowledge, were enrolled in level IV, took part in several missions whose main goal was humanitarian aid and I presume you took part in an armed conflict near the quarantine zone in 2122 as records show all level four students above 14 were deployed and you were sixteen at the time, however shortly after that the trail dries up and there's barely any record of you for over two years except for the fact that you were still part of level IV."

Álvaro raised his eyebrows at him but Dara just gazed back steadily. Not moving a single muscle. He wasn't in the habit of giving so much away for free. Álvaro waited a beat, expecting an answer perhaps, before continuing.

"Then when a journalist, who is now dead I have to add, made your identity public knowledge you started to appear infrequently at public functions, the reason that was cited for your sparse appearance was poor health, you got involved in charity work and keep a social media presence which is very popular but not managed by you. Seeing as you were never spotted commuting anywhere or have a house to your name I do have to ask where you've been.”

Dara regarded him silently for a long time. “You show your cards too much, Álvaro,” he decided.

“That isn't an answer.”

“It’s constructive criticism.”

“I want you to be honest with me and I can't expect that when I’m dishonest with you.” 

“This isn't being honest, it's a threat.”

Álvaro shrugged. “You could see it that way. I prefer to see it more as a signal that bullshit is not going to work.”

Dara stared in his eyes. “I was with Lehrer.”

Álvaro raised his eyebrows. “All this time?”

“That’s two questions.”

“Not a question, just clarification.”

Dara narrowed his eyes at him. “Yes, all this time.”

Álvaro leaned forward, never breaking eye contact. “Why?”

“No, darling. My turn remember? How did you get that information?”

Álvaro smirked at him and Dara was not going to be distracted goddamnit- “Maybe that's classified.”

“Then you shouldn't have told me in the first place.”

Álvaro smirked wider. “Maybe not.” He tapped his finger against his glass, considering how much he could get away with. “I’m a technopath and your technology is very old and, at times, alarmingly fragile.”

“So technopathy gave you insider information on the conflict with Texas and the use of level IV students.”

“I also have my contacts. I can't say more.” Álvaro was still smiling but his eyes were hard. “Why did Lehrer keep you close for so many years?”

“Do I look like Lehrer to you?”

Álvaro’s smile turned cold. “No, but you're smart enough to make a guess.”

“Like you said I have poor health.”

“Physical or mental?”

Dara stilled. _Of course_. “He told you I was crazy.”

Álvaro shrugged, infuriatingly casual. “He used the word troubled.”

“And you agree.”

Álvaro shook his head. “I make my own decisions about people.”

“And what is your diagnosis doctor?” Dara asked sarcastically.

Álvaro studied him carefully. “I don't know yet. I've only started to spend more time with you recently.” He smiled. “But I don't think you're crazy, quite the opposite.”

Dara didn't know why that was touching to him and looked down at his knees, he was a fucking mess already. “When did you start to fight in the war?”

Álvaro hissed out a breath. “Inactively, maybe ten or eleven. Actively, thirteen.”

Dara felt his lips part in surprise. “What?”

“I hit puberty early,” Álvaro joked gently.

“Ten?” 

Álvaro didn't look at him. “It’s my turn. What happened to your parents?”

Dara dug his nails into the skin of his knee. “They died in a fire when I was still recovering in the hospital. Explain what you meant with your last answer.”

“Not a question,” Álvaro pointed out.

“You don't have to answer if you're uncomfortable.”

Álvaro tipped his head back. “My father used to lead Free Atlantia, I didn't fight or anything but I was good with computers, I hacked things, I helped with the wounded and logistics and stuff but then my mom died and my dad kinda shut down, so I had to take care of him. Then we both got sick and I lived so I took over leadership of the group.” Álvaro’s accent got thicker when he was uncomfortable.

“How old were you?” Dara asked hoarsely.

“Fourteen. At fifteen both us and the army were having a difficult time so we decided to join our efforts but obviously that didn't work out.” He shook his head. “Do you remember your parents?”

Dara was brought off balance for a fraction of a second. “Almost nothing.”

“What do you remember?”

Dara remembered a lot of things for how little time he got to have them.

 _They read often, My father would put me in his lap and read to me. My mom liked flowers, my father got her seeds and she would make them grow._ _T_ _hey never hit me. Ever._ Or Dara liked to believe they hadn't. He was pretty sure he was surprised when Lehrer started so it was probably true. Dara frowned to himself, he couldn't say that. The only person he had ever whispered them to was Ames. _My mom liked flowers too, dad never takes me to her but sometimes I run away to give them to her anyway,_ she had said in return. “They were kind,” he said eventually. “And witchings but that's it.”

“You don’t remember a lot.”

“I was young when they died.” Dara blew a curl away from his eyes. “What were your parents like?”

“I… They were nice, happy, I thought. My dad was passionate about fighting, my mom was more tempered. She was smart, really smart, she could argue for hours about marxism. She was a good cook.” Álvaro frowned. “I don't like to think about what they were.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Álvaro sighed. “You said you liked reading.”

“That’s not a question.”

Álvaro gave him an exasperated look. “What do you like to read?”

“I like poetry, literature, classic literature to be specific, my favorite must be russian literature.” Dara tipped his head back in thought. “I’ve a soft spot for mythology but I don't really read it.”

Álvaro’s eyes had lit up a little and he leaned forward. “Russian? Really?”

“Yes.”

“Chekhov? Tolstoy? Dostoevsky? Nabokov? Bulgakov?”

Dara could feel a smile growing on his lips. “You know a lot of names.”

“I love them too,” Álvaro grinned.

“What’s your favorite?”

“Master and the margarita. What’s yours?”

“Hm.” Dara tilted his head, considering. “If I have to choose Pale fire but I love everything from Nabokov.” It didn't mean anything, this little connection strung between them, but it warmed Dara’s stomach all the same. Álvaro seemed more human now less like the perfect marble statue Dara had met the first night. It was surprisingly soothing to know that they had something in common, that Álvaro got excited about faraway books from 200 years ago too.

“Good choice.”

Dara gave him a coy look. “I know.” Álvaro laughed and Dara’s stomach did something weird which was not going to be examined right now. “What’s your relationship with Thomas Brennan?”

Álvaro huffed out a laugh. “Never heard anyone refer to him as Thomas before. We work together. He was friends with my parents. I thought he was…” Álvaro pressed his lips together. “We have the same goals, but different opinions on how to get there. He’s a good man. Mostly. What about Lehrer?”

“What about him?”

“What’s your relationship with him?” Álvaro asked.

 _Deeply, inherently wrong in every way._ “I’m his ward.”

“Ward or son?” 

_Fucking neither._ “Technically he adopted me. I was four. Our relationship,” Dara almost laughed at the word, “is complicated.”

“How so?”

 _He touches me_. “We clash a lot.”

“Hm. I’m sure he cares about you.”

“If he didn't you would have a big problem,” Dara said coldly.

“Right.”

Dara didn't care about Álvaro or wherever he ended up, odds were that they would both be dead by the end of this fiasco but he had to tell him, if only to be at ease with his barely existing conscience. “He’s dangerous.”

“Lehrer?” Álvaro gave him an amused look. “Thanks, I’m aware. ”

“I’m serious. He’s not what he seems. You have to be careful.”

“You really don't like him, do you?”

Dara still couldn't get past the crown but he recognized the look, pitying but condescending. The one people had when they talked about how astounding his magic was but how he had to be suppressed, or when they talked about how his father was the most powerful man in the land along with a snide comment about how _busy_ he always was and how _hard_ it must be for Dara to grow up with someone who had so little free time.

No wonder he made up all those preposterous lies.

Dara set his lukewarm cup down on the table. “I’m not saying this because I think it’s funny, Álvaro.”

“I’m not saying that I just think that you're overreacting a little.”

Overreacting.

Lehrer loved that word. Overreacting.

Overreacting and misunderstanding and pretending and lying and misremembering and _desperate_.

It was very cold. 

“Yes, of course, that must be it.”

“Dara?” Álvaro sounded worried. How kind of him.

He was going to ruin the pages of his book if he kept gripping it like this. “What am I thinking meddling with business that has nothing to do with me?”

“I didn't mean it like-”

“No, you're right. You should go back to being his very best friend and I’ll just shut up and sit pretty, it’s not like I know anything about him.”

“I'm not-”

“I’m going out. You can fix your own dinner, right? Great.” Dara threw his book on the couch and stormed to the door, ripping his coat off the hanger on the way there. 

He could hear Álvaro come after him. “Dara, please wait-” but the sentence was cut off by Dara slamming the door in his face. His shoes clacked angrily against the steps of the stairs but he didn't try to calm himself. 

He didn't know why he was so angry. People had never believed him about Lehrer and Álvaro had given him no reason to believe he was any different.

Álvaro was the same as everyone else.

He didn't know why that made him so sad.

Dara walked without a destination in mind, his collar pulled up to hide his face in the hopes of no one recognizing him. He had hoped that taking a short walk would calm him down but no such luck. He curled his hands into fists and startled when he brushed against something cold. He took out his phone and scrolled through his contacts, finger hesitating over Ames’s name. She had a life outside of him, a busy life. And he was being angry about something stupid but it had been so long since he could just pick up his phone and vent to someone. Let alone vent to someone who would listen.

He pressed down and brought the device to his ear. “Hey, I’m not available right now but leave a message. No, just text me, like a normal person.”

He could hear Bethany in the background. (“Ames don't be rude.”) but it was overshadowed by Ames’s bright, “Bye!” before an even beep rang in his ear.

He hung up and frowned down at the screen. Should he be concerned about the fact that he could think of only one person to call? Dara aimlessly scrolled through his conversations, most of them dating back years, Lehrer had wanted to keep him as isolated as possible. 

He paused at one near the bottom.

_I’ll see you in an hour. The room is 235._

8 september 2122.

He pressed the call button and brought the phone to his ear.

“Dara?”

He smiled instinctively. “Yes, it’s me. Would you mind picking me up?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course it's hozier I'm gay.
> 
> My friend almost shot me when I told her about something that happens next chapter so I hope you like it too.
> 
> Also I'm working on a new thing. it has witches.


	8. The answer? There's no need to worry- Whatever you do life is hell.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hello, Dara.” Gordon Ames hadn't changed since he’d last seen him. Still tall, dark and handsome. But when Dara looked closer he could see that his hair had become grayer, lines around his eyes and mouth. Everybody had changed. Everybody except Dara and Lehrer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Camii is getting ready to snipe me as we speak. Please enjoy the chapter.

Dara’s eyes flitted over the faces he passed as his telepathy slid through their minds. He was lucky, no one had recognized him yet.

The car stood at the corner of the street and Dara smirked when he saw it, quickening his pace and sliding in the passenger seat. “Hey,” he said, with a tinge of added breathlessness. Just to sell the picture.

“Hello, Dara.” Gordon Ames hadn't changed since he’d last seen him. Still tall, dark and handsome. But when Dara looked closer he could see that his hair had become grayer, lines around his eyes and mouth. Everybody had changed. Everybody except Dara and Lehrer.

“I’m surprised you came.”

Gordon started to drive. “Anything for you, kitten. What’s your address?”

Dara paused. “What?”

“Your new address?”

Dara swallowed. “I thought you wanted to see me again.”

Gordon sighed. “I do but you're married now. And your father wants you to keep a low profile.”

“Since when do you care about what Lehrer thinks about us?” Dara asked.

“Since it can cause a gigantic scandal and break a peace treaty.” 

Dara leaned forward and put his hands on Gordons thigh. “No one has to know.”

“Dara…” Gordon berated, but his voice had gotten lower and when he laid his hand on top of Dara’s he didn't move it away. 

Dara leaned forward. “Just once! I’ve missed you. I’ve spent years of my life locked up with Lehrer and am now stuck with some enemy turned husband. I just want to know what it’s like to be desired again.”

Gordon’s face was serious but his eyes wolfish. He slowly guided Dara’s hand further up his thigh. “Just once.” Dara didn't move his hand as he drove them to his house.

Gordon asked him to check the surroundings with telepathy before ushering him into the house and up to his room. He pushed him against the door and kissed him deeply. “I’ve missed you. The video’s just aren't the same.”

“Did you watch them?”

“Yes,” Gordon growled.

Dara smiled. “Often?”

“Yes. You're the prettiest thing I’ve ever had in my bed, always have been.” He pushed Dara’s hair out of his face. “My own pretty little sex kitten.”

Dara laughed at the old, ridiculous nickname. “There’s no need to flatter me, I'm already here.”

“I know but it’s true,” Gordon said against his neck.

Dara moaned. “Don't leave marks.”

“Everybody will assume they're from your husband.”

Dara bit his lip. “Probably but I would still prefer it if you didn't.”

“God, you're hot.” Gordon wasn't even listening to him anymore, he was rough enough that Dara knew there would be hickeys but he decided to let it slide, no need to make a fuss about something so small. “On the bed, sweetheart. Come on. Hurry.”

Dara sighed and did as he was told.

* * *

Afterwards Gordon laid on his back with a self satisfied look on his face, Dara curled against his side with his fingers twirling through Gordon’s chest hair and a neck full of bruises.

“It’s like you haven't aged a day.”

Dara chuckled. “Can't say the same about you.” He carded his fingers through Gordon’s hair. “You're a silver fox now.”

“I suppose.”

“It suits you, makes you look authoritative.”

Gordon smiled, pleased. “Does it?”

“Yes,” Dara sighed and leaned down to kiss him again. “I should be going.”

“Hm, back to your husband. How long has it been? A month?”

“A little more.”

“A little over a month and already in bed with another man. Must be some marriage,” Gordon laughed. “I don't blame you. Álvaro is a piece of work.”

Dara cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

“He has opinions about how things should be run outside of his department. Strong opinions. And he isn't shy about them, but you know how they are down there.”

Dara furrowed his brow. “Down there?”

“Atlantia, a complete mess and when we offer to fix all their problems they're ungrateful.”

“We didn't offer, we attacked them.”

“To help them. They could have surrendered, there’s no way they would have won but they just like making things difficult.”

Dara’s afterglow was long gone. He smiled thinly, being careful about not showing any anger. “What’s he like at work? At home he’s  _ so _ boring.”

“Like I said: loud and opinionated. Acts like he has any right to make demands, no respect for his elders at all. I thought Aveso was bad but he’s on an entirely different level. He needs to remember that we’ve been doing this before he was born. But,” he made a dismissive gesture, “I must be boring you.”

“No, I think it’s very interesting. What does he get mad about?”

“Stupid things that have been settled months ago. Like the amount of independence Atlantia still has or the lowered tax on Carolinian companies that settle in Atlantia. Boring stuff that you don't need to worry about, kitten. Go get dressed, I’ll drop you off.”

Dara didn't say anything in the car. He was still mad at Álvaro but the way that Gordon talked about him scraped at his ribcage, he hated it.

“Goodbye.”

“Bye sweetheart.” Gordon gave him a considering look. “If you ever find yourself lonely…”

“I have your number, don't worry.” Dara smiled and slid out of the car. 

He messed with his hair in the elevator mirror and sighed. It’s not like it mattered, his neck told the whole story so he didn't know why he was trying to hide it. 

He didn't know what he expected to come back to but it wasn't Álvaro staring down sadly at a plant. 

“What’s that?”

Álvaro shot up at the sound of his voice. “You’re back! I was getting worried.”

“Were you?” Dara asked sceptically.

Álvaro pulled at a thread on his sweater and Dara was suddenly struck by how young he was. Only twenty years old and already in the middle of this mess. He looked small despite his height, with eyes full of guilt? Regret? “Yes, you were gone for a long time. Where did you go?”

Dara shrugged his coat off. “Just visiting an old friend.”

Álvaro’s eyes snagged on his neck. “I’m guessing it wasn't Ames.”

Dara gave him a cool look. “It’s not your business who they are.”

“Right.” Álvaro nodded to himself. “Just be discreet if you want to do stuff.”

“Fuck someone,” Dara said just to get a reaction.

Álvaro turned red. “Yes.” Álvaro bashfully gestured towards the plant sitting on the table. “I got you something.”

“I’m not crazy, I don't need to be placated,” Dara bristled.

“That’s not why I bought it. I was being an asshole and I’m sorry and you said you liked plants.” He was rambling. Like he was nervous about Dara’s opinion. Did he really care?

Dara frowned. “When did I tell you that?”

“When we first met. You said you liked reading, goats, stars, bourbon and pineapple on pizza. So I got you a plant, I noticed you like to spend time in the garden but we don't really have any indoor plants. So I got you one.” Álvaro stopped fiddling with the loose tread and instead stuck his hands in his pockets and watched Dara with a very neutral face but his eyes were bright and Dara could see him grind the sole of his foot against the floor nervously.

Dara hid his surprise at the fact that he remembered and slowly walked over to pick up the plant, he studied it with a serious face before smiling widely. “I accept your apology.” Álvaro smiled back and the tension in his shoulders released. “I’ll go make dinner then, I guess.”

“I’ll help you,” Álvaro said rushidly.

“You can cook?”

“Not very fancy but it’s edible.”

Dara gave him a playful shove. “I’ll be the judge of that.” 

Álvaro shoved him back with a playful grin. “Whoever gets to the kitchin first wins!”

“Hey!” Dara yelled, he surged forwards to pull the back of Álvaro’s t-shirt and used the momentum to get ahead. They shoved their way into the kitchen, laughing all the while.

Dara had never felt so light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm thinking abut shortening the title. Still.
> 
> I hope you like this chapter. You'll have to wait for a little bit but I fucking love chapter 10 and we're getting close and I'm so excited. Hope you're well. I'm not. I have never felt this violent in my life or hated someone this much. I've countered my feelings by looking as hot as possible and wearing a skirt with pockets, I'm going for lesson in vengeance vibes which isn't out yet but I hope I look like a murder lesbian. 
> 
> I'm thinking of changing the update day to Saturday because it might be easier for me because Thursday sneaks up on me every time. Idk if there's any objections to that. I assume not but if there are please let me know.
> 
> Title from Wendy cope. Advice to young women.


	9. To whom do I owe the biggest apology? No one's been crueller than I've been to me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dara smiled tightly at the security as he walked past them. He didn't like being inside the government complex on a good day but he wholly despised it when he was summoned by Lehrer like some disobedient pup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy inauguration!

Dara smiled tightly at the security as he walked past them. He didn't like being inside the government complex on a good day but he wholly despised it when he was summoned by Lehrer like some disobedient pup.

He knew what this conversation was going to be about, he knew how it was going to end. Neither of these facts made it easier to walk up to Lehrer’s office door and knock.

“Come in.”

Dara took a deep breath at the neutral voice that drifted through the door. He had liked Lehrer’s accent once, fascinated by the dull t’s and long i’s. He hated it now. Hated every word that dripped from those lips.

“You wanted to see me.”

Lehrer looked at him over whatever document he was reading and gestured to the chair in front of his desk. Dara moved closer and tilted his head to catch a look at the paper. _The black magnolia._ Lehrer turned it over and gave him a sharp look. “That’s not for you.”

“No, I assumed as much,” Dara said airily. “Why am I here?”

Lehrer laid the document face down on the desk and folded his fingers together. “How have you been?”

Dara suppressed his rage like he suppressed most things these days. “Good. How are you?”

Lehrer ignored his question. “I hope you find the apartment adequate. I took care to find one with a garden. You've always been so fond of green.”

“It’s lovely.”

“You won’t hold the lack of honeymoon against me? It was difficult to arrange anything safely.”

Dara breathed out through his nose. “It was fine.”

Lehrer’s lips twisted cruelly. “I’m glad you could settle for your husband bending you over in the comfort of your new home. You’ve truly grown as a person.” Dara just pressed his lips together as Lehrer leaned back in his chair and gave him a considering look, eyes lingering on all the places that made Dara feel ill. “How was it? I hope you didn't struggle too much, I was very clear on the fact that I wanted him to be kept happy.”

Dara closed his eyes against the wave of nausea that slammed into him. “Why do you care?” Dara whispered.

Lehrer ignored him again. “How did he take you? From behind?” He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his desk and smiled. “You always make the most wonderful noises when I do that.”

Dara stood up so fast his chair fell backward. “I don't have to listen to this!” He turned and stomped towards the doorway but was interrupted by Lehrer slamming him against the wall. 

“Was he gentle with you?”

“Stop!” He tried to push Lehrer away but Lehrer caught his wrists in one large, cold hand and _squeezed_ . A small presence in the back of Dara’s brain reveled at the fact that his wrists were thin enough that Lehrer could easily hold them with one hand. The satisfaction was overshadowed with the revulsion that always came with touching Lehrer, with Lehrer touching him _._ Then came the all consuming terror.

“Did it hurt?”

“I don't understand why you're doing this!” Despite his best efforts his voice broke. He hated himself for it but Lehrer seemed to slow a bit at the sound.

He gripped his chin tightly, the nail of his thumb biting Dara’s lower lip. He bent lower until his breath was fanning over Dara’s face as he shifted his grip upwards until the pad of his thumb was a blurry stain in Dara’s vision and his eyelashes brushed against it. “Did you know that your iris is a slightly different color from your pupil? I doubt anyone has noticed, it’s so negligible it may as well not exist. I notice it however.”

Lehrer smiled sickly sweet as he started to stroke over Dara's cheekbone, delighting in the quickening of Dara's breath and the wideness of his eyes. Maybe Dara should be flattered that people found him pretty even when he was out of his mind with fear.

“I notice everything about you and as much as I abhor that, it does have some benefits. For example, knowing when you are scared. Or aroused but,” he made a lazy dismissive gesture with his other hand, “that does not apply to this situation.” 

Dara swallowed sharply, something that made Lehrer’s smile widen until a hint of teeth peeked through his lips. Dara was reminded of a tiger playing with a soon to be kill. “I-”

“So you know you did something wrong, that’s good. Admitting is the first most difficult step after all.” Lehrer withdrew back to the desk, letting Dara force a couple of shaky breaths in his lungs. “Gordon was very pleased with himself. I'm sure you were as well.”

Dara twisted his fingers together, hooking his nails into his own skin to keep his hands from betraying him. “No, sir.”

Lehrer raised an eyebrow. “No? I’m sure Noam wasn't either, being married to someone who couldn't keep his legs closed for more than a month. Was he not enough?”

 _You're one to talk._ Dara bit his tongue and looked at the floor so Lehrer couldn't pick up on the defiance in his eyes. “We haven't slept together, sir.”

Lehrer fished a cigarette from his pocket and lighted it with a sharp gesture. “Well I can't blame him, anyone who attaches value to their health would think twice about coming near you. Even with condoms it’s a risk.”

Dara hated himself for turning red, almost as much as he hated the amused sound Lehrer made when he noticed the shame painting Dara’s cheeks. “Oh, pet,” he cooed. “You're so wonderfully entertaining sometimes.” His smile died and was replaced by a distant coldness. He clicked his tongue. “But I’m afraid that's not going to get you out of this. I told you to please him,” he said slowly around the smoke billowing from his mouth.

“H-he doesn't want to fuck me, I’ve been getting closer in other ways.”

“Really? Because I see Noam near daily and he seems very unarmoured with married life.”

“You have to give me time, sir.”

“I _have_ to,” Lehrer said dryly.

Dara swallowed nervously. “I don't have persuasion. And I can't use telepathy.”

“Lots of people manage without either of those things. I’ve managed to get his trust.”

“I’m not you, sir. I can't do that.” If Lehrer was reassured of his superiority over Dara he might be more lenient. Lehrer was at his worst if he felt like Dara was better than him at something, always had been.

“No, you're not. Lehrer sighed and walked over to Dara. He stroked a hand over Dara’s cheek, cigarette still dangling between his fingers and Dara held very, very still. “Maybe I’ve been unfair to you, you're so frail after all. Maybe gifting you your powers back and trusting you with such a monumental task was too much to ask.”

Dara frowned. “What are you saying?”

Lehrer gave him a pitying look. “I’m saying that to contain the stress you're under you need to go back to the apartment.”

Dara shook his head, forgetting about the cigarette near his face and almost burning himself. “No.”

“Dara, I’m trying to do what’s best for you.”

“No, you can't.”

Lehrer pulled him closer and pressed a kiss to his hair. “I’ll do anything to keep you safe and healthy. The peace treaty will be fine.” _Lies, lies lies._

It was a bluff. It had to be a bluff. Lehrer wouldn't risk the treaty and the image of the marriage just to get more control over Dara. “Me leaving my husband to live with my father after six weeks of being married will spark too much outrage.”

Lehrer rubbed his thumb gently over Dara’s cheekbone. “We’ll figure something out. If necessary we’ll put you on suppressants and keep you in your current apartment.”

Dara made a strangled sound. “Why is the first step suppressants? They're supposed to be a last resort. And I’m not fevermad.”

Lehrer tipped forward until his lips were resting against Dara’s forehead and cupped the back of his head gently. “Are you certain? You do feel warm,” he murmured against Dara’s skin and Dara almost threw up when he realized that he had no idea if the gesture was meant to be fatherly or lover like. 

The lines had blurred so much over the years they all looked the same.

“I can get it done but I need time.”

Lehrer kept stroking his cheek. “Hm.”

“I will get it done, sir,” Dara insisted, trying to keep the desperation crawling through his veins out of his voice.

“See that you do, pet.” Lehrer let go of him and stepped away, back to his documents. He didn't even look back at Dara. “Dismissed.”

Dara nodded and quickly made his way to the door.

“Dara,” Lehrer said absentmindedly. He half turned to catch Dara’s eye. “Don't fail me again.”

Dara didn't say anything, just walked out and slammed the door shut, resting his head against the cold wood and closing his eyes. A faint surprise and curiosity radiated from the people walking past the office but Dara didn't wait to see the carefully concealed emotions on their faces and started walking down the hall, head bowed to hide his tense expression, and immediately smacked against a firm chest. 

Warm hands gently caught his waist to stabilise him. “Careful,” Álvaro rumbled against his ear.

Dara blew out a breath and pulled back a little to look up at his face. “What are you doing here?”

Álvaro gave him a small grin. “I work here, remember?”

“Right.”

Álvaro gave him a curious look. “What are you doing here?”

“Why do you need to know?” Dara scoffed.

Álvaro frowned. “I don't. I’m just wondering. Is everything okay?”

People were staring so Dara smiled softly, it was harder than it should have been. “Yes, of course.” He quickly kissed Álvaro’s cheek. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Álvaro gave him a forced smile. “I look forward to it.” 

The atmosphere was still uncomfortable when Álvaro came back from work that day. Dara was furiously scrubbing at a red stain on his blouse left by the sauce he was making, Álvaro watching him warily. “Are you still mad at me?”

Dara didn't look up. “About what?”

“That I didn't take you seriously about Lehrer, I didn't mean to offend you.”

Dara scrubbed harder. “I know that.”

“I’m sorry I was condescending, I know you're trying to help.”

“That’s not why I’m mad.” Dara wrung his shirt roughly. “But thanks.”

“So, why are you mad?”

Dara sighed harshley. “It doesn't matter.”

Álvaro draped his blazer over the back of a chair. “Maybe I can help?”

Dara dried his hands and gave him a half smile. “You can't.”

“Not if you don't tell me,” Álvaro said. He leaned his hips back against the counter.

“You're sweet, really, but it’s fine.” 

Dara turned to go back to the ovens but Álvaro reached out to catch his wrist. “Hey-” Dara flinched away.

Álvaro froze and then quickly withdrew his hand. Dara wrenched back towards the food. “You can help by setting the table.” _Get away from me._

Álvaro hesitated but then nodded. “Of course.” Dara focused on the sound of plates clinking against the table and carefully folded his anger into two again and again until it was a little square that he could force underwater until it wasn't visible anymore. The oven beeped and Dara quickly pulled on oven mittens to carefully pull out the lasagna he wasn't going to eat. 

“Eat up.”

“Thanks.”

Dara settled down on his chair and stabbed violently at the food, taking a small amount from the dish and plonking in on his plate. “So, how was your day?”

“Good. Boring.”

“Choose one,” Dara said curtly.

Álvaro’s eyes flicked up to him. “It was okay. Nothing bad happened. In fact nothing happened at all.”

“I would say that the government having nothing to do is a sign of a smooth running country.”

Álvaro groaned loudly.

“What?”

He dragged his hands over his face. “Nothing. I just hate being the government,” he mumbled miserably.

He looked so comically dejected that Dara couldn't stifle his laugh. “Sorry, I'm sorry, I don't mean to laugh at you but you look like a sad puppy.”

Álvaro was staring at him, mouth slack with surprise for a second but then it turned up in a slow smile. “Yeah, I suppose a grown man acting like this is kinda funny.”

“Don't get me wrong, it’s cute but also very entertaining.” Dara was still smiling, genuinely smiling. He should stop. It wasn't good to feel this comfortable around a target but he didn't want to. 

This was nice.

“Always glad to be of service,” Álvaro said with a smile that was just on the side of devilish. Dara quickly looked away. “Work was alright, just a lot of white people wanting to keep their privileges.”

Dara shrugged. “That’s Carolinia’s elite.”

“I know. The issue is that now it’s Atlantia's elite as well, I want to help my people but the people over here act like every sprinkle of dirt is a gift that I should thank them for on my bare knees. Like, yes, it’s so great that you rebuild most of the infrastructure you destroyed but there’s still a lot of homeless orphans.”

Dara nodded. “They won't help because of altruism. They focus on things like infrastructure and big cities because they will be able to get money from it in the future.”

“It’s not help but an investment,” Álvaro said flatly.

“Exactly. If you want their help you’ll have to frame it in a way that will help them.”

“Why is Lehrer not doing anything?” Álvaro asked, brows drawn together and hands balled tight.

Dara gestured with a fork, almost throwing sauce all over the table. _Because he’s an asshole that only knows empathy as a word._ But he needed to play Lehrer’s game and he wasn't Álvaros' friend, no need to give him free ammunition. “He needs the people's good will. There's a lot of pushback against the monarchy nowadays, if he seems like he favors Atlantia over ‘his own’ the opposition can use that to stoke the dissatisfaction there already is to a revolution. Which is dangerous as I don't want to end up in a guillotine or in a lab and the government that will come in Lehrer’s place will in the worst case scenario be exactly like last time this thing happened. They’ve gotten their power by violence and they will continue to lash out. It’s not a certainty but it’s likely.”

“It will fuck Atlantia.”

“Exactly.”

Álvaro frowned. “Didn't this happen before?” It had, and Dara was sure Álvaro knew all the details, but he was willing to play along for now so he slowly twirled his fork around as he considered how he should spin this.

“Yeah, once, after that kid blew up his city support for anti-witching - and therefore anti-monarchy sentiments - grew to the point that Lehrer had to abdicate. Everyone regretted it when it turned out the new government was trying to sell us out to Texas and he was reinstated, with a few restrictions on his power. But now there’s pushback against the monarchy again so Lehrer has to be careful about what he does about the situation, the annexation has calmed everything a little bit as we’ve shown our superiority and our compassion by saving you from yourselves. And Texas, of course. Can’t forget them. But! Now people are biting their nails about how much money saving you will actually cost.”

“And about how much we will give you.”

“You can’t force the government to help you and Lehrer can’t do so openly.”

“There’s people-”

“Who genuinely want to help? More than there are people that are out for themselves? No, I don't think so. Besides, those are people from Lehrer’s side. If they force too much aid…” Dara trailed off.

“Lehrer will be accused of forcing things his way.”

“You're getting it. Now who does that leave?”

Álvaro stared incredulously at him. “The opposition?”

“Exactly. They will be able to sell it to their followers who will feel satisfied and not left behind which might ease the tension.”

“How do I convince them?”

“Don't use arguments you care about because they don't. They don't care about human decency. They care about money. So frame it in a way that will give them money.” Dara smiled wryly at Álvaros’s blank stare. 

“But helping people is the right thing to do! That’s what a government is for!”

Dara raised his eyebrows. “Since when?”

Álvaro leaned back in his chair, regarding Dara silently. As if seeing him for the first time. “You should have my position.”

Dara shrugged. “I already said I don't like politics.”

“But you're good at it. You could help people.”

Dara grabbed his wine and took a long drink. “There’s a lot of logistics to appoint me to an official position in the government without raising a lot of hackles. Nepotism is a thing after all.”

“This is literally a monarchy.”

Dara shrugged. “True. But even so people always despise nepotism. Besides,the amounts of mental instability I possess vastly outweigh the occasional smart moment.” According to Lehrer, anyway.

Álvaro gave him a sideways look. “You seem to be very good at this.”

“Because I’ve been around these people most of my life.” Álvaro just hummed noncommittally. Dara sighed and put down his wineglass again. “I know that you're new to this, it can't be easy having to marry for political gain and then being thrust into international politics with barely any preparation.”

“I’m not a child.”

“But you are young. This situation would be a nightmare for anyone but you’re twenty and you're in a strange country after you lost your own to war. I know that you don't trust me but I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to hurt anyone, but Lehrer…”

“Wants to hurt me?”

“He wants things that will hurt you but the end goal is not the fact that you are hurt. It’s more like...” Dara hesitated. How on earth did he explain this? “He will get what he wants and he doesn't care about if you want it or if it hurts you. It’s not sadism but indifference. And anger if you don't comply. Do I make sense?”

“Sorta.” Álvaro still looked doubtful. “I can protect myself.”

Dara knew that meant he didn't believe him but he withheld himself from starting another fight. “Just be careful.”

“I will be.”

Dara just shook his head and started pushing at his dinner again. He let Álvaro steer the conversation towards a safer subject. Talking about how different the food they had here was and how he had to stop himself from strangling the minister of finance, again. Dara laughed at his story and watched with raised eyebrows as Álvaro finished both their plates off. “It’s really good,” he defended himself, still shoveling food in his mouth.

It was… domestic. Normal. Certainly not terrible.

Afterwards they both draped themselves over the couch and smiled at each other with wine stained lips. 

And when Álvaro wished him a goodnight with eyes crinkling at the edges it was easy for Dara to soften himself and wish it back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be nice next chapter. For the most part. (I like angst I'm so sorry)
> 
> I wrote this like 2 months ago why is it so relevant?
> 
> Title from: Alanis Morisette. Sorry to myself.


	10. And maybe you could come closer and show me love colored things.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s a Gala.”
> 
> “I don't know shit about gala’s.”
> 
> Dara rolled his eyes. “The bowtie isn't optional.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're here  
> with all this chemistry   
> in our veins,  
> so let's stay up  
> and talk  
> about heaven and earth,  
> and your dreams,  
> and my dreams
> 
> and maybe you could come closer and  
> show me love colored things.
> 
> -late night conversations by butterflies rising.

Dara pushed at his curls, they always took the longest to get in line but he couldn't argue with the end result. He twisted some one last time to make sure they stayed before he smiled at himself and walked out of his room. “Álvaro?”

“Give me a sec!”

Dara sauntered towards his room. He rested his hand on the doorframe and peeked inside. Álvaro didn't seem to own much or maybe he just wasn't very materialistic. There were two holoreaders strewn on the bed along with a well worn copy of paradise lost. More books were stacked on shelves, instead of neatly fit next to each other Álvaro had pushed them into little piles and Dara grimaced at the sight of it. How did the man find the book he wanted if he couldn't even read the spine? Dara turned towards the bathroom and saw something glint from the corner of his eye, he slowly moved close and pushed a half open drawer further open. In it were colorful ribbons with metal sewn on them. Military ribbons. He tried the drawer under it but it was locked. He decided against opening it. Álvaro was too close and Dara wanted to avoid another confrontation like the last one at all costs.

“What’s taking so long?” he called.

“This fucking- I can’t do this. Are you sure a bowtie is necessary?”

“It’s a Gala.”

“I don't know shit about gala’s.”

Dara rolled his eyes. “The bowtie isn't optional.” When he walked to the bathroom he saw Álvaro glaring downwards, Dara was glad for it because it meant he didn't notice the widening of his eyes. Álvaro had worn suits before but those weren’t like this one. He had worn suits that fit and were functional but finding one that accentuated him was clearly not on his mind. He didn't know who had forced Álvaro to go to a tailor but the results were wonderful. He shook his head - resisting the urge to slap himself in the face- and moved closer. 

“Let me help.” He shooed Álvaro’s hands away and smoothed the pieces of fabric so he could start tying them. When he glanced up Álvaro was staring at him intensely. “If you pay attention you can do it yourself next time.”

“I’m paying attention,” Álvaro murmured, still looking at Dara.

Dara glanced up at him through his eyelashes. “I meant to the bowtie.”

“I should, it’s just difficult to do when there are so many other things to look at.”

Dara smiled. “Is that your way of saying I look good?”

“Stunning,” Álvaro said softly in a tone that made Dara’s smile widen against his will.

“All done.” He let go of the bowtie but couldn't resist stroking the fabric of Álvaro’s blazer smooth.

“Thank you.”

“Oh. I lied. You need one more thing.” Dara turned around, ignoring Álvaro’s confused look and walked over to the open drawer to grab the medals. When he returned to pin them on Álvaro his wrist was caught and he held his breath, waiting for that hand to tighten until it was painful but Álvaro just stroked over his pullspoint. Something that affected Dara more than he would admit.

“Leave them.”

“Why?” Dara breathed.

“They will clash with the suit.” Álvaro leaned forward a little with a wry smile. “And take away the attention from your hard work.

Dara tilted his head slightly and Álvaro’s eyes flickered to his neck. Dara grinned, this was familiar territory. “Alright. Ready, darling?”

“Always.”

As soon as they stepped through the door all eyes were on them. People that attended these sorts of things were raised with the ability to navigate every social interaction with a perfect smile hiding razor teeth. Dara was one of them. Álvaro not. 

People didn't turn but Dara saw the excitement flicker through their minds, the gazes being pointed at them from eye corners, eager for weaknesses. Álvaro stiffened so Dara pressed up against him and turned his head towards him with a smile. “Don't show them anything and don't get angry.” Álvaro shivered as Dara's lips brushed against his earlobe.

Álvaro frowned. “I know people like this.”

“That doesn't mean you know how to handle them.”

“Dara!” Álvaro tensed and Dara twisted his face into something pretty. “We’ve missed you at these things. They aren't quite the same without you.” He scanned his face. Boyall. 58. Witching. Level II. 3 sons. All as insufferable as their father.

Dara lifted his lips in a flattered smile. “I sure hope they aren't, I would hate to be forgettable.” 

Boyall’s smile widened pleasantly, mind already spinning ideas about how to get on Lehrer’s good side via Dara. “How have you been?” He seemed as interested in the answer as the rest of the small crowd that had clumped around them, all watching. Either from the corners of their eyes or unashamed.

Dara smiled bashfully and grabbed Álvaro’s bicep with both hands. “Good. You know, enjoying married life and my new husband, of course.”

“He’s been taking care of you?” 

“Very well.” Dara let the words slowly roll from his tongue, packing every bit of innuendo he could in them.

Boyall looked at Álvaro with a friendly smile but his eyes glinted maliciously. “Great.” He bent forward, as if telling a secret, as if Álvaro wasn't there. “We were worried. Lots of us thought giving you away to an Atlantian was an awful decision, never know what those people are going to do. And it’s such a waste of a pretty face after all, I was hoping to set you up with one of my sons but, alas, his majesty was persistent.”

_ I would rather rip out every single one of my ribs and cram them up my ass _ , Dara didn't say. “Oh, it wasn't his decision, it was mine. He was hesitant but you know how I get.”

“I do. Bite off more than you can chew all the time. Well, I hope he enjoys you, you're probably the most expensive thing he’s ever laid his hands on,” Boyall laughed and Dara forced himself to smile as he dug his nails into the thick fabric of Álvaro’s suit. He straightened and turned to Álvaro. “Better take care of him, someone might just snatch him right out of your arms,” he said with a wink.

“I always do,” Álvaro forced through a smile that was just a smidge bloodthirsty.

“Not that I make it easy for him. Wouldn't want you to lose those delicious abs.” Dara laughed after he said it and the crowd laughed with him, placated by the hint of filth they had managed to wrench loose. “Let’s go find Ames.” Dara said it loud enough for the crowd to hear, and started pulling Álvaro away from them.

“Jesus christ,” he muttered after a moment.

Dara relaxed his grip and started to smooth the fabric, fingers trailing from Noam’s strong bicep to his forearm and coiling himself around it. “You did good. They really want a rise out of you so be prepared to hear things like that all evening. They're hoping you're going to start a fight and get kicked out. It’s always nice to have an opportunity to confirm your prejudice, isn't it?”

“That man might be the worst person I’ve ever met.”

Dara hummed. “It comes close.”

“He even looks racist.”

“He does,” Dara chuckled.

“How did he fit in so many insults? How many were there?” Álvaro held up the hand that wasn't captured by Dara and started to count on his fingers. “Reducing you to your father’s property like it’s fucking 1800. Twice! Wasting you on me. Never know what ‘those people’ are going to do. I’m counting that as two because fuck him.” 

Dara held up one hand next to Álvaro’s so he could continue counting. 

”Implying that I’m worth less than his sons. Calling me poor, objectifying you and infantilizing you at the same time.” Álvaro started at their hands incredulously. “Nine insults. In 10 seconds of conversation. What the fuck.”

Dara leaned his head against Álvaro’s shoulder. “Did he imply I was a prostitute too?”

“When?”

“‘The most expensive thing you've ever laid hands on’ is kind of suggestive. Or am I reaching?”

“You should let me punch him just in case,” Álvaro said dryly.

Dara laughed. “Not where people can see. They won't take your side, darling.”

“Fuckin’ pasty white old men are the worst.”

“Speaking of,” Dara said under his breath.

Lehrer smiled warmly. “It’s good to see you both.”

Álvaro turned away from Dara to greet him. Why did Dara notice that? “Glad to be here, your majesty.”

Lehrer’s smile turned indulgent. “You're a terrible liar. And there’s no need for full titles, just say sir, it’s shorter. Or Calix if you want, you're my son now as well. There’s nothing wrong with being close.”

_ There’s a loaded sentence _ , Dara thought dryly. 

“I’ll just stick with your majesty. It’s fine.”

“No, I insist.”

Álvaro hesitated. “Alright, your- sir. Sir, is what I- yes.” He shut his mouth with an audible click and the expression of someone kicking themselves.

Lehrer tilted his head teasingly, a gesture that raised the hairs on Dara’s arms. “Your sir does have something interesting to it.”

_ Is he flirting? _ Álvaro turned red and laughed awkwardly.  _ Is it  _ **_working_ ** _?  _ “Did you need something?” Dara asked icily.

Lehrer lazily shifted his attention to him. “Yes, I’m going to discuss something with you.” He gave Álvaro a polite smile. “I’ll bring him back to you in a moment. Don't worry, Major General García would love to catch up with you.” Álvaro grimaced at the tall woman that was glaring daggers at him but didn't protest.

Lehrer laid a hand on the middle of Dara’s back and started to push him towards a pair of doors. “What do you want?”

“Must I always want something? Maybe I merely miss you. We don't spend as much time together as we used to after all.”

“Jealous?” Dara sneered

“No. Stop frowning, you'll get wrinkles.”

Dara clasped his hands together in front of his heart and gave Lehrer a beaming smile. “We will match.”

Lehrer huffed, amused. “Glad to see you’ve refound your bite. You were getting so very dull near the end. Although I’m sure I'll remember how tiresome all your chit chatting gets soon enough,” he warned. Lehrer sighed and pulled Dara tighter against him. “If worst comes to worst I can at least train that out of you. Afterwards you would be permanently insipid but it’s something at least.”

Dara breathed in shallowly. “Why are you like this?”

Lehrer just chuckled in his ear and kept pushing him out of the door, towards an empty remote room. He closed the door with a soft thud and turned towards Dara. “Well.”

Dara put his hands on his hips. “Well,” he said with a exaggerated german accent.

Lehrer looked at him with a face that screamed exhaustion from every corner. “Dara.”

“Why am I here?”

Lehrer took a deep breath. “Because I want to know your progress.”

“It’s fine. That was all? Fantastic. Nice to see you.” Dara made for the door but Lehrer neatly invaded his space and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, bringing up one hand to Dara’s neck.

He tightened his grip until Dara had difficulty breathing. “I take back what I said about you refinding you backtalk.”

“That was quick.”

Lehrer laughed softly in the way he always did when he was getting mad. “You always manage to find my buttons within seconds, it was endearing when you were a child but now that you're grown I’m afraid I’ve lost my taste for it.”

“If only you had lost your taste for other things of mine,” Dara choked out.

Lehrer pressed a kiss against his hair. “Never,” he promised.

Dara sucked in a soft, shuddering breath. “I’m working on becoming friends. He has admitted attraction to me. It’s going well.”

“That’s all you had to say.” Lehrer let him go, squeezing his shoulders once. Hard.

“Why didn't you marry him?” Dara burst out.

“Excuse me?”

“You want him. I can see it. So why didn't you marry him?”

Lehrer gave him a bemused look. “That would ruin any pretense of impartiality. And,” Lehrer laughed, “the age gap is a little on the wide side. Oh, before I forget, happy birthday in advance. Someone will send you the information about your party soon.”

He went then, leaving Dara to quietly stare at a spot on the wall where the paint had been scratched off for a while. He wasn't sure how long he stood there but Ames found him eventually. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Dara replied. 

“How long have you been here?” Dara shrugged. It took more effort than it should, to move his shoulders, to remember they were his. Ames gently touched his fingers with the back of her hand. Dara barely felt it. “C’mon let’s sit down.” She ushered him towards a chair and pushed him down onto it, crouching in front of him with alert eyes. “He was here wasn't he?”

“...yeah.”

“He isn't anymore. You can come back if you want.” She kept talking, slowly explaining whatever conflict she was entangled in. He did eventually return, focussing on her face, something that seemed to lift her mood. 

“What’s the black magnolia?”

“Insurgents. They seem to be against Lehrer and the Atlantian annexation.”

“Is Atlantia involved?”

Ames shook her head. “No, but Texas probably is.”

Dara sighed. “It’s always Texas.” Ames chuckled and gently squeezed his knee. “Is Álvaro involved?”

“I don't think so but it’s probably up to you to figure that out.”

Dara squeezed his eyes shut. “Lehrer hasn't said anything about it.”

Ames straightened. “He probably will later. Come on. We will miss the party.”

Dara stood up from the chair. “Now everyone will think we fucked.”

“Yeah, because you don't scream ‘gay!’ with every part of your being,” Ames snorted.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She pulled the door open. “Dara, my cleavage comes to my damn navel and you haven't even looked at my boobs once. Not once! I’m insulted. These are high quality tits.”

“Maybe they aren't as great as you think they are.”

“What are we talking about?” Álvaro asked.

“My tits. They're great, right? Tell me they're great.”

Álvaro’s face turned red and Dara took pity on him. “She’s just fucking with you, ignore her.” Then to Ames. “How dare you try to seduce a married man. Disgusting wench.”

“Right, because you've never done that.”

“Darling, this is the part where you defend my honor.” He laid his head against Álvaro’s shoulder and blinked up at him.

Álvaro frowned down at him. “Y’all are weird.” Both Ames and Dara grinned widely in response and Álvaro smiled back, perhaps despite himself. “We should get back.” 

Dara nodded, cheek still pressed against Álvaro’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”

“Are you okay?” 

Dara smiled thinly and slid his arm around Álvaro’s waist. “I’m fine. Just smile and try to survive the next couple of hours.”

They reentered the party to suffer under more thinly veiled jabs and thickly veiled lies. Floating from disdainful politician to disdainful socialite to disdainful lobbyist until they ended up with the minister of commerce.

“I finally caught our happy couple together,” Loughty said coolly.

Dara beamed at him. “Aw, you missed me.”

Loughty gave him a cool look. “Always, but I was actually more interested in my new colleague. How are you finding the job? ”

Álvaro smiled tensely. “Great. How are you finding it? There must be a lot of stuff happening with labor.”

“I’m commerce!” Loughty exclaimed indignantly. 

“Yeah, there’s a lot of things to do with that too, for sure.”

“There is.”

Álvaro grabbed two champagne glasses from a passing server with a soft ‘thank you’ and handed one to Dara. “Good for you.”

“Good. For. Me.” The man smiled stiffly. “I hope you're not too stressed, with everything going on.”

Álvaro got a dangerous look in his eyes. “Everything going on?”

“Oh, you know,” Loughty said with something mean curling around his mouth. “The Atlantian betrayal. The fact that  _ your _ people are working with  _ Texas _ !” Dara shifted uncomfortably.  _ Too many eyes. _

Álvaro raised his chin. “It’s unbecoming of a member of the cabinet to peddle conspiracy theories.”

“It’s unbecoming of a member of the cabinet to take part in illegal activities.”

Álvaro stepped closer to the man. “Like bribing cops?” he asked softly enough that only the three of them heard.

Loughty blanched and let out a nervous laugh, eyes shifting around. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about. I’m assuming you don't want this knowledge to spread to, say, a journalist?”

“You don't know what you're talking about.”

“I do actually, so let’s both forget our grievances and continue to have a very unpleasant evening. If you’ll excuse me.” He gently rested his hand Dara’s shoulder and led him away, leaving Loughty’s furious red face behind.

“Careful with that,” Dara murmured in his ear, “It’s unwise to alienate people this early.”  _ Even though that was really hot.  _

“I wasn't the one doing the alienating, besides they won’t respect me if I let them walk my ass flat.”

“And they will if you blackmail them?”

Álvaro shrugged. “Pretty sure that means ‘I like you’ in politics.”

Dara snorted. “Stop it.”

“Daraaa! Come back! I still need to congratulate youuuu,” a voice behind them sang, making Dara cringe.

“Dolores.” He smiled tightly. “How wonderful to see you.”

“And you! You’ve been avoiding me, naughty boy.” She mock pouted at him but her eyes glinted sharply.

He laid a hand on his chest. “I wouldn't dare.”

She grinned. “Álvaro, how nice of you to come. Excited to finally see a gala from the inside? And not through the visor of a sniper rifle.” Álvaro bit the inside of his cheek. “Is it what you expected?” she asked when the silence dragged on too long.

“Much worse.”

She smiled too wide. “Oh no. How sad. Have you been busy?”

“He has been. Barely has time for me.”

“Oh? Working on what?”

Dara stepped forward brazenly. “A proposal to you.”

She tilted her head sadly. “I’m already married unfortunately. But do go on.”

“It’s about stimulating education in Atlantia.”

“Oh, of course. Atlantia.” She gave him a regretful look and brushed her dark hair over her shoulder. “See, the thing is that we actually need to focus our resources on Carolinia right now. Investing in Atlantian education is just, well, a waste.” She made an exaggerated apologetic face.

Dara laughed. “It’s good that Noam has thought about this in depth. I will explain it to you. Atlantia is in shambles right now, people can do cheap labor, something that will bring you short term profit. But! There is something called investing in the future of a country. One of the main ways to do that is...”

“Education,” she finished.

“Right. If workers are educated they're able to do more complicated, more profitable jobs.”

Her thoughts slowly colored in interest. “Hmm. So why are you telling me instead of daddy?”

“My husband can’t propose anything that will help Atlantia while costing a lot of money without every conservative pushing back on principle. Besides, it’s not his department. He doesn't want to seem tacky.”

She folded her arms over her chest. “It’s tacky to make political deals at gala’s.”

“He isn't. I’m doing it.”

She seemed to consider it and then nodded. “Touché. Why would I propose it?”

“Money. It will make you look good because all ‘let’s help the children’ plans do. It will calm tensions in Atlantia if they immediately gain something with the annexation. It will give any Carolinians that have worries about profiting of imperialism reassurance that we’re really helping them. For people that oppose in private you have the money argument. For anyone that opposes in public you have accusations of them hating children.” He lifted his chin slightly. “There are your reasons.”

She nodded slowly, opportunism flickering behind her eyes. “I can't do this alone. There’s reasons people don't go to school besides there not being good education, you know.”

“Yes, so you’ll need to work with the minister of housing, labor, health, Noam and a bunch of others but you can convince them easily. I just did all the work for you.”

She glared at him. “Maybe I wasn't listening.”

“Not my problem.”

She gave him a long hard look and then smiled sharply. “I’ll see you in the office minister Álvaro.”

“See you then.” 

She walked away and Dara relaxed. “So.”

“Holy fuck.”

Dara bumped him with his hip. “You’re welcome.”

“You're fucking incredible,” Álvaro sounded breathless and when Dara looked up he was already looking at Dara with wide eyes and slightly parted lips.

“You’ll still need to do the rest. Convince the others. Actually write the proposal and keep it on track.”

“Yes, but you still got my foot in the door. You’ve thought about this. You care. About us. You're an asset,” Álvaro stammered, admiration in his voice and Dara’s smile froze on his face.

An asset. Of course he was. Dara was an asset, a punching bag, a willing body, or an unwilling body. 

He lived to serve.

“I don't think anyone should suffer just because they're born on the wrong side of a border. Basic empathy isn't impressive.”

“It is in your circles.”

Dara sighed. “I know. Let’s just go convince people that human decency is profitable.” 

The rest of the night consisted of Dara playing the part of a happy well sated spouse while slowly showing people the perks of working with his husband. Álvaro’s hand was warm on his back and Dara didn't mind it much, not at all. Especially not when Álvaro gestured excitedly about the ways he could improve the lives of Atlantian people. Dara felt bright and bubbly with champagne and it was easy to smile and lean forward into Álvaro’s space. When he stumbled while exiting the car Álvaro steadied him with gentle hands. “You’re really strong,” he giggled.

“Mmhmm.” Álvaro ushered him in the elevator and into the apartment. “I think you need water.” He pressed Dara into the cushions of the couch. “Stay here.”

“Okay.” Dara smiled down at his knees and pulled a frilly pillow closer so he could tug on the strings.

“Here.” Álvaro folded his fingers around a cool glass. 

“Thanks.”

“Are you very drunk?”

“No, just,” he waved a hand through the air, “tipsy.” 

One corner of Álvaro’s mouth slowly turned up. “You're very cute.”

“‘M not,” Dara mumbled but Álvaro just smiled wider. “Shut up.”

“Okay.”

Dara frowned at his water. “Álvaro?”

“Yes?”

“Why didn’t you want to wear your medals?” It was an unnecessary question, one that Dara probably shouldn't ask but he couldn't swallow the words back down so instead they just hung in the air. 

Álvaro’s smile trembled and rested his arms on his legs. “I shouldn't have gotten any medals.”

“You did great things. Everyone said so.”

“No, I didn't.”

“They wouldn't have given you a medal if you hadn't.”

Álvaro took a shuddering breath. “I did awful things, things I shouldn't be rewarded for them . 

Dara shrugged. “Like what?”

I’ve… Dara, I've hurt people. Badly. I’ve hurt and murdered and tortured and no one should get a medal for that shit. War is dirty. Bad. And at the time it didn't matter because I was saving my own. I was fighting for my own people so it didn't matter what I did because it was them or me. Okay? I had to. So you blow up a train bringing provisions to the enemy because you're preventing them from causing more harm, then you wound them because you have to think of your own people, then you- you kill them because it’s a fight and it’s them or me. And you keep doing that until you're crashing a building down onto people that have already thrown down their guns and it’s wrong.” 

His voice broke, he took in deep trembling breaths and stood from his chair to look at the city below. Dara looked at him silently. What could he say?

“It’s wrong but you have to because you have to think of your own, have to see the bigger picture. But the fact is that the pieces of the bigger picture also have families and friends and pets. They could have been me.” He laughed bitterly. “Maybe in another life I will shoot you in the face or you’ll break my neck. Just because they're the enemy doesn't mean they're worthless except- except they kind of are. Every war needs cannon fodder and every war needs people to decide where that cannon fodder will go.” Noam bent his head. “Doesn't mean you deserve a medal.”

Dara stared silently at his bent head. He slowly put down his glass and walked over to Álvaro. “Hey.” He hesitated. “It’s not your fault.”

Álvaro barked out a laugh. “Yes it is. I gave the orders.”

Dara stepped closer again, almost touching him. “You were dealt a shitty hand, you did what you could.”

“Doesn't make it right.”

“Maybe not, but you forget that you're also a piece operating within the big picture. You were a part of the defense, just some kid put in a harsh position. You did bad things but maybe you stopped worse things from happening.”

“It’s a damn mess.” His voice broke over the last word and Dara couldn't stop himself anymore. He moved carefully so Álvaro could see it coming, could push him away, and wrapped his arms around him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled into the back of Álvaro’s shoulder.

He felt Álvaro turn and firm arms winded around him. “It’s not your fault.” He pulled back to see Álvaro’s face.

“It’s not yours either.” He pushed a stray lock of hair from Álvaro’s brow. Álvaro breath hitched and Dara realized how close their faces were. He wet his lips and Álvaro’s eyes darted down to watch the movement of his tongue.

_ Oh.  _

“Noam.” He shouldn't. He really shouldn't. 

Dara leaned up to press his mouth against Noam’s. 

His swore his heart stopped beating for a single second. 

Then Noam kissed him back. 

It wasn't as Dara had expected. At first, when Noam was still a faceless figure with bloody hands he hadn't imagined kisses at all. Just a weight pressing him down as Dara searched for a crack in the wall or some chipped paint to focus on. Then he had imagined that anything they would weave together after months or years of boredom and having only each other as an option would be rough and painful. All taking and no giving. 

This was very soft. Dara slid his fingers into Noam’s hair and curled them. He felt a hand cradling his cheek, tilting his head, giving Noam better access. He felt a tongue swipe at his lips and he almost fell, knees buckling. Noam startled and pulled away, two hands on his hips, steadying. A deep voice asking him if he was okay and those brown,  _ brown _ eyes-

“You're drunk,” Noam whispered. “I’m so sorry. I didn't mean to-”

“It’s okay I want to. I’m not drunk, I just tripped.”

Noam gave him a doubtful look. “It’s late. We should sleep.”

“Please.” Dara leaned in close, hand skirting Noam’s hip. “Noam.”

Noam shivered at the sound of his name and for a long moment Dara had hope, but then Noam grabbed his hand and pressed an apologetic kiss to his knuckles. “I’ll help you up the stairs.”

“I’m not drunk,” Dara insisted but Noam just laid a hand on the middle of his back and said ‘come on’ in a voice that was nearly a whisper and Dara went. He turned when he got to his door. “Good night.”

Noam nodded at him. “Good night.” Then he closed his door and Dara shut his.

He let himself fall backwards onto his bed. A kiss. Dara had never felt so giddy about a kiss. He felt himself start to smile and realized with a startle that he was tracing his own lips, trying to remember the feel of Noam’s. He snatched his hand away and turned into his pillow to groan loudly.

“What on earth happening to me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mom said it's my turn to use 'oh'
> 
> We're here! Finally! Sort of almost!
> 
> Updates will probably stay on Thursdays bc I like having something to look forward to in the middle of the week.
> 
> Anyway, I hope I get to watch wall street burn. 
> 
> If you're having a bad day: my cat has figured out that she can bury herself between pillows. I hope a fat ball of black hair gleefully rolling on a mountain of pillows makes your day better bc it sure does mine.
> 
> Not entirely sure about the politics part in this. Economy isn't my strong suit but give me a break, I haven't had it since I was 14 and that might not have been extremely long ago but I have a bad memory and my father declined to give me any of his braincells so I'm only good at history and art.
> 
> I hate Lehrer I don't know why I put him in every chapter.


	11. Because in my dreams I am always knee-deep in graves- digging up the bones of ghosts I used to sleep with. And then burying them again, two feet deeper, when I don't like what they say.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He rolled out of bed and pulled a sweater over his head. He must look like a mess, he always did in the mornings but right now getting downstairs was more important. Noam was quietly walking around the kitchen. “Hey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight suicidal ideation. Not planning on doing anything but more 'I'm in a potentially dangerous situation and I recognise this could end badly but I don't care that much.'

Dara Once, as I was burying one of my dead selves, the grave-digger came by and said to me, “Of all those who come here to bury, you alone I like.”woke up to the sound of someone shuffling around downstairs.  _ Noam _ , his mind supplied. He was Noam now, wasn't he? Just Noam. 

That wasn't true. Noam wasn't just Noam, just like Dara wasn't just Dara. Noam was Álvaro as well, an enemy, someone who would and could kill him if necessary and Dara was worse than that. 

But still, it was nice to have moments where they were almost normal. Just two boys. Or young men, Dara was an adult, he reminded himself, even though the people around him still treated him like a child. 

He rolled out of bed and pulled a sweater over his head. He must look like a mess, he always did in the mornings but right now getting downstairs was more important. Noam was quietly walking around the kitchen. “Hey.”

Dara startled at the loud clang of cutlery hitting the bottom of the sink and the vehement cursing accompanying it. “Fuck! I’m sorry.” Noam’s cheeks were red as he said it.

“I didn't mean to scare you.”

“I know, just wasn't expecting you.” He gave Dara a small smile. “Uhm, good mornin’,” he finished lamely.

Dara gave him an amused look. “Good morning. What are you making?”

Noam gathered all his things from the counter. “Just breakfast.”

“Do you eat lunch in the cafeteria?”

“Hm? No, I don't really have time,” he answered. “You don't have to help. Go sit.”

Dara slowly sat down and smiled at Noam when he put a glass of water in front of him. “Thanks. Lunch is a very good way to make connections, you might want to consider it.” He frowned. “Wait, what do you eat for lunch?”

“Oh, this.” Noam walked to the freezer and pulled out a frozen dinner. “It’s just faster.”

“What? Those are incredibly unhealthy!”

Noam shrugged. “Well, yeah but-”

“You can't keep eating that!”

“What else do I do? I don't have much time in the morning.”

Dara threw his hands up. “Then you make something the night before like normal people. I can't believe this.”

Noam gave him a funny look. “Fine, this will be the last one then. Promise.”

“What are you looking at?” Dara huffed.

Noam was ducking his head to hide a smile. “Nothing, you're just cute when you're fussing.”

Dara glared at him. “I’m not.”

Noam started preparing his breakfast. “Not cute, not fussing or not cute when you're fussing?”

“All of the above.”

“You’re saying you ain’t cute?”

“Excuse you, I’m nothing less than drop dead gorgeous or achingly beautiful.”

“You got that right,” Noam mumbled under his breath. 

Dara smiled at him. “I know.”

“Hm? Oh!” Noam started blushing again. “Sorry.”

“It’s a compliment, no?” Dara leaned forward on his elbows. “So about last night…”

“Yeah?”

Dara raised an eyebrow. “Want to talk about it?”

Noam chewed thoughtfully for a long moment. “Do you remember anything?”

“I already said I wasn't drunk.”

“Sure. I just wanted to apologize again.”

“Noam-”

Noam shot from his chair. “I’m really sorry but I gotta go.” He started to gather his things and walk away, blazer still in hand and tie loose around his neck.

Dara interrupted his war path to the door and stopped him with a hand on his chest. “Wait just one moment,” he murmured. “After the gala I don't believe I can trust you with a tie anymore.”

“Dara-”

“Shh. Just let me.” Noam didn't protest after that, seemingly understanding it was easier to let Dara do as he pleased this time. Dara hummed softly as he grasped the tie and neatly started to fold it in a knot. When he pulled it tight he let his hand brush against the skin of Noam’s neck and he felt him swallow, Dara smiled sharply. “All done, darling.”

“Thanks,” Noam whispered hoarsely.

Dara smiled wider and straightened the tie, hand brushing against Noam’s chest. “You're going to be late.”

“Yeah.” 

But he didn't move, staring at Dara with wide dark eyes, Dara couldn't help but love them. He slowly tilted his head, tugging Noam down by his tie until all he had to do to close the gap was lean up. 

“Yes! I am. I should go. Right now. Goodbye.” Dara startled at the volume of Noam’s voice, at the sudden absence of his body heat. Before he could react Noam had already wrenched himself loose. Disappointment curled low in his stomach, replacing the heat that had started to flicker there but he didn't show it.

“Goodbye, darling.”

Noam pulled the door open but turned one last time. “Dara? Please try to eat something.”

Dara considered biting his head off- something cruel enough that it would echo through Noam’s mind until the end of the day, something that would shut down his soft expression and make him forget about any attempts to reach out. He nodded instead and the grin that Noam gifted him in return made him feel like he finally made a good choice. 

Then Dara was alone. 

Noam was odd, usually he didn't have to ask a man twice, usually he didn't have to ask at all, the issue would be stopping them instead of convincing them to put their hands on him. Or maybe he had read everything wrong. Maybe last night wasn't attraction but merely a desperation for another human being, any human being.

Even Dara.

He tugged on his curls. Things were difficult without telepathy. People were difficult to read at the best of times but Noam seemed to be averse to having any expression besides annoyance and disdain. His eyes were lively but maybe Dara had read those wrong too. Maybe Noam just wanted a friend. Maybe Noam didn't want him at all and he was merely allowing Dara to gratify himself to keep the peace or to get closer to him for information.

No, that was ridiculous. Noam couldn't know he had any information in the first place. And he seemed amicable to Dara’s advances. Seemed.

Fuck.

He started to pace through the apartment. He hated being so utterly useless in social situations. He would just have to communicate like everybody else. Guessing just made him anxious, it was just like back then when he would sit in the apartment with only Wolf for company, coming up with worse and worse scenarios of what would happen when Lehrer got back home.

They somehow never lived up to the real thing.

But this wasn't Lehrer, this was Noam. Not that he knew Noam (or, Dara thought, he knew parts of Noam, people were always so different behind the closed doors of their minds.) but he couldn't be as bad as Lehrer even if he did worship the man. Dara couldn't blame him for that, it was easy to do, Dara had done so for a long time and he would have to be patient about it, no matter how frustrating it was to watch Lehrer dangle a sword over Noam’s head while his was already rolling over the floor.

He couldn't tell Noam. Noam couldn't accept working with someone like Lehrer. If Noam knew who Lehrer was he would try to kill him where he stood, and then die painfully and uselessly. Or maybe he would kill Dara. If Noam knew Lehrer hated Dara he wouldn’t need Dara anymore. Dara would just be a potential enemy in his surroundings, a burden better cut loose.

He wanted to say that Noam wouldn't but what did he know? He was just desperately throwing himself at the feet of the first man that wasn't Lehrer. 

He was pathetic.

Was Noam good or was Dara desperate? Dara brushed a hand through his hair. He had been stuck with Lehrer for so long. Maybe he just wanted Noam to be good. Maybe he was hoping again even if that had never ended well.

But the apologies, the fear of overstepping a boundary, of taking advantage. The sincere regret and shame in his voice. That had to be true.

Dara had thought that with Lehrer too but Dara was older now. Awake. He knew what was going on, he wasn't going to let himself be taken advantage of twice. Noam was better than Lehrer. Just like Lehrer had been better than the nervous boys his age, much more adult, much more experienced and he had chosen  _ Dara _ when it could have been anyone else.

“Why wasn't it anyone else?” Dara whispered, pressing his hands to his eyes.

Noam didn't care about Dara, he was just stuck with him until he would have to kill him and Dara was an idiot if he believed otherwise.

A drink. That’s what he needed. A lot of them. God Dara hated himself, he couldn't even be left alone for five minutes before he started acting like a child. No wonder Lehrer treated him like one.

A drink. Several drinks. And then maybe something stronger. Something to keep him out of his head. Someone to keep his hands busy. Yes. Later. Nothing was open yet.

He would have to figure something else out in the meantime. Like his garden. He nodded to himself and grabbed his tools from the storage closet along with a bottle. Climbing on the roof when he was something that could be called tipsy if you were very generous was not a good idea but Dara didn't care. They should probably cover the pool with something before there was an accident. Dara could probably climb out. Or use magic to save himself if something did happen. Unless he hit his head but if that happened he wouldn't notice anything so he didn't really care that much.

He hated to admit it but the garden was nice. It made time drip by less slow and when he cared to check the time again it was late. Noam would be back soon. Dara should maybe cook something for him- it turned out that Noam was very generous with what he called edible- but there should be leftovers. Unless Noam had given those away already. He would just have to eat takeout otherwise but Dara was in a good enough mood to give him a heads up. He made his way downstairs again only to find Noam already there, rummaging through the fridge.

“You're back.”

Noam shot him a smile over his shoulder. “Hey.” He turned around to frown conceredly down at Dara. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Why?”

Noam shook his head. “Nothing. You just- have you been crying?”

Dara rolled his eyes. “Don't be ridiculous.”

“If you're sure.”

Dara glared at him. “I am.”

“Okay,” Noam said skeptically. “What would you like to eat?”

“Nothing. I’m going out in a little bit so you don't have to make anything for me. Or wait up.” Dara smiled at him but Noam’s frown deepened.

“Out?”

“Yeah.”

“With who?”

Dara shot him an irritated look. “With no one, father. Why all the questions?” 

“Because we are married?” Noam said with a helpless gesture.

“Don't tell me you are jealous.”

“Dara, we need this to look legit.”

Anger started to sift in the bottom of his stomach. “Why?”

Noam gave him an incredulous look. “Because of the peace.”

The peace, that's why he was here, that’s why Noam was still here. Because Dara needed to cooperate so there could be peace. Not that anyone had ever asked him if he wanted to. “I don't give a fuck about the marriage.” He didn't mean for it to come out. 

“Dara.” Noam seemed taken aback at his swearing. “I know you're not happy with it-”

“Of course I’m not. I don't want it! I don't care about it!”

“Then why did you agree to do it?” Noam snapped.

“I didn't!”

Noam swayed as if Dara had punched him in the face. “What?” Noam whispered.

Dara’s eyes were burning. Goddamnit he said he wouldn't cry about it. Crying didn't help. “I didn't agree to do it. No one asked. He just told me that I was going to get married one day over dinner and that I couldn't refuse.” He roughly wiped his hands over his face and gave Noam a cold look. “So you can imagine that I’m not happy, minister.”

“I’m sorry. I'm so sorry. I- I had no idea. We can fix this. Divorce. Anul it. Anything.”

“Stop lying to me.”

“I didn't know,” Noam pleaded. “If I had I wouldn't have done it, I promise. I- I have to- I need a moment.” He left the kitchen, Dara could hear him running up the stairs and the slamming of a door.

Dara could leave now, finally use some of his club clothes again, open a pack of glitter and apply it until no one could ignore him, not even if they wanted to. 

He didn't go out in the end, just fell onto the couch with a bottle of… something. He shouldn't care about what Noam thought he should do or if he was upset and alone in his room. It’s not like Dara was going to make him feel better, certainly not in the state he was in right now but he would probably pass out in the elevator if he tried to leave now. Shame, he really hoped to fuck someone.

“Dara?”

Dara blearily shifted his eyes towards Noam. “Hm.”

“Oh, you're drunk,” he said in the same tone Ames always used and that made Dara angry for some reason. 

“And?”

Noam held his hands up in surrender. “Nothing.” He rounded the couch and plucked the bottle from Dara’s lax fingers. 

“That’s mine.”

“I know but I don't think having more is a good idea.” Noam set it on top of the closet which was such a dick move because he knew Dara wouldn't be able to get it without risking breaking his neck. 

“So what do you want to do instead?”

“Hm?”

Dara pushed himself up unsteadily, gripping Noam as he came over to steady him. “I don't mind. We’re married, we should act like it.”

“Dara-” 

Dara kissed the corner of his mouth. “I know you think I’m pretty so there really isn't a problem.”

“Except for the fact that you're drunk,” Noam said flatly.

“Who cares about that?” Dara laughed. “I can still make it good for you, I can still-” He cut himself off as he was lifted, Noam apparently deciding that this was easier than dragging him up the stairs - and he smiled in his neck. Noam carefully laid him in his bed and pulled the covers over him. When Dara attempted to roll over to ask him where he was going Noam firmly pressed him back on his stomach.

“I’ll be back in a minute, just stay like this.” Dara stopped moving, he felt a hand card through his curls and then nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noam: bb pls eat  
> Dara: ~because we're delta airlines and life is a fucking nightmare~
> 
> I've no idea where the title is from.


	12. I have manipulated everyone who has ever fallen in love with me to fall in love with me and that makes me a very good liar or a very unlovable human being.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Wait.” Álvaro turned around, one hand on the door frame. “Did you- Did we-”
> 
> Álvaro stared at him, uncomprehending until realisation slid over his face, followed closely by distaste. “You were drunk,” Álvaro said like that was an explanation on its own.
> 
> Dara shot him a flat look. “I know. That's not what I’m asking.”

Dara woke up because the sun was shining in his face and he cursed his drunk self for not remembering to close the curtains as his headache spiked and his stomach turned around. He lurched to the side of the bed in a desperate attempt to not puke all over the sheets, fingers closing around a strategically placed garbage bin as he started heaving.

“How are you doing?” Dara shot Álvaro a furious look over the edge of the bin and he grimaced. “Stupid question?” 

Dara just groaned and turned back the feeling like shit. “Here.” Álvaro handed him a glass of water. “You can take painkillers after breakfast. What would you like?”

Dara took a deep breath. “Why,” he asked, “are you sleeping in a chair wearing a suit?”

Álvaro shrugged. “You were very drunk and I didn't want you to die choking on your own vomit. Pretty sure that was written in the ketubah somewhere,” he joked gently. Then his face fell in regret. “I’m sorry. I’ll make some eggs or something.”

“Wait.” Álvaro turned around, one hand on the door frame. “Did you- Did we-”

Álvaro stared at him, uncomprehending until realisation slid over his face, followed closely by distaste. “You were drunk,” Álvaro said like that was an explanation on its own.

Dara shot him a flat look. “I know. That's not what I’m asking.”

Álvaro’s face went blank. “Is your opinion of me truly so low that you believe I would take advantage of you?”

“I wouldn't exactly call it taking advantage, I asked for it. I remember that much.”

“While being drunk,” Álvaro said slowly.

“Yes. I’m guessing this is your lengthy way of saying we didn't sleep together.”

“I wouldn't do that to you,” Álvaro said, eyes fierce. “Or anyone.”

Dara’s clothes were still on, he didn't feel sore, and unless Álvaro fucked him, put his suit back on and slept in a chair for the rest of the night he was telling the truth. He thought back to after the gala, when Álvaro had panicked about kissing him when he was tipsy, and felt ashamed. “Okay.” He gave Noam a hesitant smile. “Change out of the suit before you make breakfast, it can't be comfortable.” 

Noam half smiled back and shot him a two fingered salute. “Yes, sir.”

Dara rinsed his mouth and drank the water before sliding out of bed. He kicked off his jeans and pulled his shirt over his head, avoiding looking in the mirror as he rummaged around for loungewear. He settled on sweatpants and the biggest sweater he owned before climbing back into bed. 

Noam got back wearing similar clothes and holding a tray full of food. He smiled when he saw Dara. “What?”

“Nothing. You just look like you're drowning in that shirt.”

Dara wrapped his hands around his waist. “I like big shirts. Enjoy owning sweaters because if I ever get my hands on one you're never seeing it again.”

Noam set the tray down. “You're gonna rob me?”

Dara stuck his nose in the air. “It’s not stealing I’m merely taking what is rightfully mine as your spouse. Come sit.” He patted the bed. 

Something flickered through Noam’s eyes at the mention of their marriage but he did as he was told. “Ladrón.”

Dara narrowed his eyes playfully. “I’m going to pretend that’s something sweet.”

Noam smiled innocently. “Of course it was.” 

“It should be. I deserve it.”

“I know, cariño.”

Dara speared a piece of egg. “I’m going to pretend that was sweet too. Come, eat.”

Noam shook his head. “It’s all for you.”

“I feel bad if you're just watching me eat. Here.” He held it out to Noam, cupping his other hand under the fork. Noam hesitated for a second before bending forward to eat it. 

“Thanks.”

“Don't thank me I was using you to see if it’s poisonous. Though I’ve seen you eat a hotdog wrapped in a pancake so you not dying is not saying much.”

Noam laughed. “I only did that to see your reaction and it wasn't as bad as you would think.”

“I don't believe you.” 

Noam laughed harder which made Dara’s stomach flutter. Instead of examining the feeling he shoved another mouthful of egg into Noam’s face. “The food tastes okay, right?”

“Yeah, it’s good.”

Noam looked sheepish. “I know you prefer omelettes but I’m really bad at flipping things, so now it’s scrambled.”

Dara laughed and Noam’s face turned soft in a way that made Dara itch to see if his mind softened too. They spent the next hour talking softly and laughing between bites, Dara trying to feed Noam most of the food and Noam pushing the fork back in his face. “I’ll make more if I’m still hungry don't worry.” Which wasn't why Dara did it but adorable nonetheless. 

After Dara had swallowed the pills Noam gathered everything on the tray again. “I can help.”

“It’s not much.” Noam smiled at him as Dara trailed down the stairs after him. 

“I’m sorry for thinking you slept with me while I was drunk,” he said, eyes trained on Noam’s back.

“Please don't be sorry I understand.” Noam shot him a hesitant look over his shoulder. “Has something like this happened before?”

“Yeah, I guess. A couple times.” Dara twirled around to take in the sunlight streaming from the windows before turning back to Noam. “I wouldn't have minded if you had slept with me,” he said sincerely.

Noam almost dropped the plates. “Dara, I would never rape you.”

Dara nearly lost his balance. “That’s not- I wasn't calling you a rapist. I was just saying-”

“Someone who is drunk can’t consent so it would be rape.”

“Well, even if that's true then I’m giving my consent now, for later.”

“That’s not how this works.”

“I know what r-” Dara swallowed. “I know what that is.”

“Clearly not.”

His eyes were earnest, well meaning but Dara couldn't shake the tone.  _ Reality is what I say it is, liebling. _ “Don't tell me what I should think.”

Noam looked at him for a long time. “We won't call it that then. But I still wouldn't. Okay?”

Dara resisted the urge to drag this out, to get into Noam’s face until he got his fill but he bit his tongue instead. “Okay.”

Noam sighed softly. “Okay.” Noam gave him a tense smile. “Would you like some more food?”

“No, thank you. I’m alright.” Dara twisted a curl around his finger. “Do you have plans for today?”

Noam started to wash the dishes .“No, just work and making sure everything is ready for your party.” Noam’s mouth twitched after the last word.

“Don't like parties?” Dara teased.

Noam half smiled at him. “People tire me out a lot.”

“It won't really be a party, three people are coming. You need to be worried about the party Lehrer is going to make us throw, that’s going to be all about being seen.”

“Is it going to be better than the gala?”

“Worse, this time we will officially be the center of attention and there might be press,” Dara said brightly.

“You are going to be the center of attention.”

“We’re a package deal now, my darling husband.”

Noam groaned loudly. “Fuck.” Dara drifted closer, reaching over Noam’s shoulder for a towel as he went deadly still at the brush of Dara’s arm.

“I’ll dry. It’s only fair.”

“You're sick. You should be laying down.”

“I feel fine. No need to worry.” After everything was put away Dara grabbed Noam’s hand. “Come, sit with me.”

“Alright.” Noam followed him to the couch easily. 

Dara sat on the couch, turning towards Noam when he sat down too. “What’s going to happen tomorrow?”

Noam gave him a small grin. “I don't want to ruin the surprise.”

“Maybe I don't like surprises.”

“This is a good one, I promise,” Noam said earnestly. Which was horribly unfair because that was adorable.”

“Are you able to handle being with Ames for so long?”

“Yeah, turns out we get along fine if we aren't fighting. And even if we didn't I would still bite my tongue for you.” He blushed. “Because it’s your birthday and I unknowingly ruined the last one I mean.”

“It’s not your fault, it’s Lehrer’s.”

“Dara had I known-”

Dara pressed a finger to his lips. “I know, don't worry about it.” Noam slowly took his hand, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of it, the feeling of rough skin sliding over his knuckles almost made Dara forget what he wanted to ask to instead fantasize of feeling those hands elsewhere. “I take it you weren't forced into this?”

Noam frowned. “No, it was my own choice.”

“How did that happen?”

Noam shrugged. “We lost, Brennan was involved in the peace negotiations, a marriage was brought forward, he approached me, I agreed.”

“How- How old were you?”

“Eighteen. That’s the whole reason I was nominated. Why?“

Dara tugged on his curls. “So you were fighting in the war for years, were barely more than a child and then the only father figure you have tells you to get married?”

“He didn't tell me. He asked. I agreed because it was for the greater good. I may have failed Atlantia but I can still help it now.”

“Is that what he told you?” Noam’s thumb stopped moving. “Did he tell you that you didn't fight hard enough but you could fix it this way?”

“Dara, that’s not- that’s not how the conversation went.”

“Did he put it nicer?”

“Not everyone is Lehrer,” Noam snapped.

“You don't have to be Lehrer to be manipulative.”

Noam’s face went carefully neutral and Dara was sure that if he could rip the crown off the thoughts would be shooting through the air. “Is Lehrer always like that?”

_ Shit _ .

Dara looked away. “He’s difficult.”

Noam started to rub soothing little circles into the back of his hand. “How so?” he asked softly.

Dara steeled himself. He heaved a sigh. “He- He loves me, I know he does.”  _ Don't gag.  _ “But I don't always understand him. I know he wants to do what’s best for me but sometimes it doesn't feel like that.” 

Noam hummed understandingly. “How did he bring up the marriage to you? You said it was quite the shock.”

Dara laughed bitterly. “Yeah, we had dinner and he said he was sorry and that a marriage was arranged. That you were a good man that wouldn't hurt me, unlike all my other men, otherwise he wouldn't have agreed to it. He said he couldn't convince your side to drop this requirement without risking more war. That you were nice and that I would be happy.”

Noam’s face was carefully sympathetic. “How did you react?”

Dara scoffed. “Lots of screaming.” Noam gave him a soft smile, eyes staying flat, and it took every bit of control Dara had not to wrench his hand away and lunge at him, to try and get his nails under the edge of the mask and rip it off. “He thinks I’m fragile and need to be looked after. Sometimes he forgets that I’m an adult and will override my wishes to do what he thinks is best. He won't change his mind.”

“Were you scared?”

“Yes, but he just said you were good and didn't have any ill will. That if you did try something he would be there before I even opened my mouth to yell for help. So I didn't need to worry.” Dara shrugged. “Guess he was right.”

“With what?”

“You're a good man.”

Noam pressed his lips together, regret flashing in his eyes. “Dara-”

Dara wrapped his arms around him and pressed his face into his neck. “I know you wouldn't hurt me. Ever. It’s just difficult to remember sometimes.”

Noam tensed at the sting of salt being pressed into the wound and he slowly hugged Dara back. “Of course not.” He dragged his fingers through Dara’s hair. “Of course not,” he whispered to himself.

Dara smiled at the lie. “I trust you.”

“I’m glad,” Álvaro said smoothly. Dara smiled wider and tucked his head under Álvaro’s chin so he could press his ear against Noam’s rib cage and listen to the guilt writhe in time with his heartbeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Sade Andria Zabala
> 
> We've finally reached the end of all written chapters. 13 is almost done and I will have vacation soon so I'll probably be able to write then but tbh I'm not doing great right now so maybe not. I'll figure out how sad I'm going to make this story but I might take a break from it first :) hope you don't mind, you've been very supportive but there's just a lot going on right now.
> 
> Ladrón means thief.  
> Cariño does not ;)


	13. Sorry I don't want your touch. It's not that I don't want you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dara considered the question. “There’s something else I want.”
> 
> “Like what?”
> 
> “A kiss.”

Dara woke to soft knocking at his door. “Hngf.”

“Can I come in?”

“No,” Dara moaned into his pillow.

“I have food,” Noam sang. “And tea.”

“Ugh,” Dara half yelled in the direction of the door.

He heard it being cracked open. “I can also come back later but it’s already,“ he paused, “1 pm.” Dara waved a hand to him. “Does that mean go away?”

“No. Come here.” Dara sat up in bed just in time to see Noam stifle a smile.

“Here are your nutrients, my liege.”

“The correct form of address is your highness, actually. If we’re being technical.” Dara loved being technical about stupid things that didn't matter to anyone. Because why let things be easy when you can make them hard?

Noam started to pour both of them tea. “My sincerest apologies, your highness. How on earth can I make you forgive me?”

Dara pretended to think about it. “Bring me your head.”

“Can it be attached to my body.”

Dara shrugged. “If it must be.” He hovered his hand over the tray full of eggs, pancakes and fruit. He picked the fruit and started to chew reluctantly on a grape. “Why are you laughing?”

“No reason,” Noam said, still smiling and had Dara been more awake he might have smiled back. “You're very endearing when you've just woken up.”

Dara scrunched his face up in thought. Endearing, Dara didn't think anyone had ever used that word on him before.

“You look like a bunny.”

“A bunny?”

“Or maybe a mouse. A cute one,” Noam added quickly as he climbed next to Dara in bed.

“Why?” Noam just shrugged so Dara ignored him in favor of pushing more fruit into his face. Noam picked up the pancake and Dara made an enraged noise around his strawberry. 

“What?”

“With your hands?”

“I washed them, it's fine.”

“It’s not. You can’t just eat pancakes with your hands!”

“It’s no different from a sandwich.”

Dara gave him an incredulous look. “Yes it is.”

Noam took a bite, with his hands. “Hmm.”

“I hate you.” 

Noam just took an even bigger bite. “Hmmmm.”

Dara let himself fall back on the bed. “It’s my birthday and this is what I get for it? A heathen?”

“Afraid so.” Dara shot him a dirty look, Noam just smiled.

“Will you go with me?”

“Where?”

“Durham university seems to have a wonderful botanical garden. I want to check it out. It would be nice if you came with me.” If you want to, hung in the air.

Dara ran a hand through his hair. “You're interested in plants?” he asked sceptically.

Noam shrugged. “Maybe you inspired me.”

Dara smiled at the obvious lie. “I would love to go with you.”

Noam smiled back. It did something to his face that Dara couldn't quite describe, whenever that (beautiful, beautiful-) smile was aimed at him he felt like he was being enveloped in gentle sunlight.

“Is this my surprise?”

“Maybe.”

“What about the party?”

“It got moved to tomorrow, Bethany’s schedule is hell apparently. That okay?”

“It’s fine.” Dara’s eye fell on a slip of paper sticking out from under the kettle. “What’s this?”

“Open it and find out.”

Dara gave him a suspicious look and slowly pulled the envelope with his name on it free. “I don't like coupons.”

“It’s not coupons.”

Dara ripped it open. In it were a dozen university leaflets. Dara thumbed through them. “What’s this?” he whispered.

Noam shrugged. “I’ve noticed you're very isolated here, and you don't have much to do so I thought maybe, I don't know, you would be interested in college? You're very intellectual and it’s a reason to go outside, get some friends and stuff, I thought you might enjoy it. Of course there’s also online classes. And level IV is a very high education. And this is not me giving my permission or anything! Just an offer to help you choose one, to let you know the option exists, you know?”

“I…” Dara tore his eyes from the pamphlets. “Really?”

Noam smiled, relieved. “Of course.”

Dara smiled back. “Then, yes, I would love to go.”

After breakfast Noam gathered the plates and told him to get ready. 

“Maybe I will,” Dara said smiling. He threw his hands teasingly around Noam’s neck and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you for breakfast, and,” he averted his eyes, “everything else, it was lovely.”

Noam looked surprised but then smiled back. “No problem, baby.” Then he left Dara blushing in the middle of the room to wash the dishes.

When Dara got down Noam was scrolling through his phone. He looked up when he heard him on the stairs. “You look great.”

“Thanks. You too.”

Noam playfully offered him his arm. “Your highness.”

Dara rolled his eyes but bowed anyway. “Colonel.”

“Shall I retrieve the carriage?”

“If you insist.”

Noam led him towards the car, opening the door for him and ignoring Dara’s sarcastic, “Oh, how gentlemanlike.” 

Noam opened the door for him again and together they strolled inside, Noam wrapping himself in fond silence as Dara looked around.

“Is this my birthday gift?”

“Maybe. Is it not to your liking?”

Dara considered the question. “There’s something else I want.”

“Like what?”

“A kiss.”

Noam frowned. “Dara-”

“You don't have to.”

“I know. You don't have to either.”

Dara raised his eyebrow to give Noam a look that would make a lesser man stutter. “I’m aware. You're not going to pressure me into anything, I’m not scared of you.”

Noam raised his eyebrow back. “No?”

“Of course not,” Dara said, anger curling in his chest.

“You're just restricting my arm for fun?”

Dara tensed. “What?”

“Did you think I wouldn't notice?” Noam stayed calm, unfazed by Dara’s defensiveness. 

“I did not because there is nothing to notice,” Dara scoffed.

“You just like to cling to my arm just because and not to, say, make sure it’s more difficult for me to hit or grab you?” 

“I…” Noam was looking at him with a too calm face. “I…”

“I’m not mad about it, I know it’s my own fault.”

“Wh- Your fault?”

“My reaction when you tried to,” Noam gestured to the circlet, “you know.”

Dara felt the cool sense of relief wash through his veins. “I’m not scared of you. I know you wouldn't hit me.”

“How can I be sure?”

Dara rounded on him, suddenly full of misplaced anger. “Because I like you. I think you're sweet, I think you're handsome and smart and I want to spend time around you.” He trailed a hand over Noam’s neck. “I want to kiss you. I want you to want me,” he said softly. “I’m an adult, and I’m not crazy! I can make my own decisions, you should trust them. Please.”

Noam was looking at him, searching his face intently before casting a quick look around. “Come with me.” He led Dara away from the path by his hand. When they were covered from prying eyes he turned and crowded Dara up against a tree. “This okay?”

It was hard and cold against Dara’s back and he really hoped for Noam’s sake that nothing had stained his woolen coat because it was new and he was very attached to it already. “Perfect.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Dara smiled sharply, leaning his head back against the wood. “What are you waiting for?”

“Consent,” Noam deadpanned.

“Oh, come here.” Dara pulled him down to press their mouths together.

Noam froze for a moment before relaxing and kissing Dara back and- Fuck. He was good. Pressing closer, bringing up a hand to cradle Dara’s face.

Noam stayed gentle but insistent, hand on Dara’s hip, one leg sliding between his and this was- this was ridiculous. They were ridiculous. Smushed up against a tree, making out like teenagers instead of the grown men they were. Dara felt like he was thirteen again, just discovering all the things he could do with his body- to someone else's body and sneaking in a boy half an hour before Lehrer’s meeting ended just so he could bother his father.

Dara hadn't felt like that in forever.

Noam pulled back to look him in the eye and the absurdity of the situation hit Dara all at once. Dara Shirazi, hiding in the bushes with an Atlantian to make out. He started to laugh. Noam looked taken aback before a look of amusement rolled over his face. “You're being too loud, baby.”

Dara just laughed harder and Noam kissed him all over his face as revenge. Dara kept laughing until Noam followed his jawline up to his ear and kissed it softly. “Too loud.” Then he bit down gently and Dara made a sound entirely different from laughing.

“Stop that.”

“Don't like it?”

“No, but you're starting something and I refuse to fuck against a tree.”

“Trees are very important.”

“Not for fucking!”

“Shh.” Noam looked around nervously. “Someone is going to find us.”

Dara rolled his eyes. “Come on then. There must be a public bathroom somewhere.”

“I’m not going to fuck you in a public bathroom. Or let you fuck me. I don't- I don't know which you prefer, I mean, I’m fine with both-”

“But not in a public bathroom.”

“Not in a public bathroom, no.”

Dara slid his hand to the back of Noam’s neck- careful to not go near the crown- and looked up at him through his eyelashes. “What about a private bathroom?”

“I prefer a bed.”

Dara smiled slowly. “We have beds. At the apartment.”

“We can go there after I’ve had enough of the garden.”

Dara rolled his eyes again. “Fine, we’ll fuck against the tree.” He dropped to his knees and unbuckled Noam’s belt, holding eye contact with Noam who looked breathless already. 

When Dara pulled down his zipper Noam snapped out of whatever trance kept his eyes fixed on Dara’s mouth. “No, no, no, jesus. Not here, baby. Wait.” He grabbed Dara’s hands and pulled him upright.

“I don't want to wait.”

“Baby- Baby! Look at me.” Noam wrapped his arms around him. “Calm down.”

“But I thought... “ Dara furrowed his brow. “You said…” Dara thought he’d learned all the rules by now. Dara would place a boundary and then he would give it up when the other party made it difficult to maintain. It was easier for both of them to skip the steps and get to the point.

Noam wasn't interested in that dance apparently.

_ Or just not interested in you. _

Dara pulled back at Lehrer’s voice echoing through his head. “I thought you wanted me.”

“I do. You’ve no idea.“ Noam laughed, only slightly hysterical. “But not here.”

Dara hated how placating it sounded. He wasn't an idiot, a soft no was still a no. “Oh.” Dara felt his face start to burn. He supposed he should be grateful that Noam wasn't one of those pushy types but he just felt ashamed.

“I don't mean it as an insult,” Noam said softly, too softly.

“I’m not insulted. Let’s just go.”

“Baby, please-” 

Noam pulled him a little closer but Dara shoved him back immediately. “I’m not your baby.”

“Dara, I…” Noam started to close his pants. “I’m fucking this all up. I’m really trying to give you a good birthday-”

“I know,” Dara cut in. “Let’s just keep going.”

They brushed off and returned to the path, Noam acted like nothing had happened, like Dara hadn't dropped to his knees like a whore five minutes ago. Maybe that was kindness.

Noam didn't reach for him again and maybe Dara should be grateful for that too. 

“How’s work?”

Noam gave him a pained smile. “It’s alright.”

“Just alright?”

“No one likes me, no one wants me there, they're not hiding it. Except for maybe your dad.”

“I’ve already told you-” Dara sighed through his nose. “Nevermind. Is there progress?”

“Two steps forward one step back.”

“That’s still a step forward.”

“Yes but-” Noam rolled his shoulders. “Every proposed bill that’s there to help Atlantia they shove in a bunch of unrelated stuff.”

“Gotta give them something.”

“I don't want to.”

“Then I suggest you start working on a plan to overthrow them and seize all power for yourself because that’s your other option.” Noam’s only answer was a tilt of his head. “Shut up.”

“I’m not saying anything.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m not saying anything!”

“Alright then mister communism. If you're going to commit treason you better make sure I have a cushy life in your new world and don't end up on the damn guillotine.”

“I’m both an anarchist and a communist so there’s a fifty percent chance I’ll completely abolish the government.”

“Texas will invade and burn us at the stake immediately. Try again, Proudhon.”

“First of all: fuck that guy. Second: we still have communism so unfortunately as part of the upper class you'll have to make some sacrifices. I doubt your current lifestyle will be possible. The good news is, we will get rid of all cops so it will be worth it, I promise.”

“What if everyone gets my current lifestyle?”

“That’s acceptable. However, I’m not sure I could deal with more of you.”

“You won't have to. I’m one of a kind.”

“I know,” Noam said tenderly and Dara had to remind himself to breathe.

“As much fun it is to discuss overthrowing the state I think we’ve seen the entire garden so maybe we could head back?”

“Of course.” 

Noam led him back to the exit and into the car. “I’m surprised we didn't get accosted by the press,” Dara commented idly.

“I made sure no pictures or posts about us being here could be sent.”

“What?”

Noam wiggled his fingers. “Technopathy.”

Dara stared at him. “You can just do that?”

“I’m good.”

“The entire time?”

“Yeah, I’ve practiced a lot so I’m good at multitasking.”

“So while you were kissing me you were also deleting pictures off phones?”

“Yeah?”

“Oh.” Dara turned his eyes forward again. 

Noam watched him with a puzzled expression before realization flashed across his face. “Oh. Oh no, I didn't mean- It was good! It doesn't take a lot of effort on my part to keep an eye on everyone's phones. It's like a reflex at this point.”

“I’m not mad.” Just really fucking embarrased.

“Baby- I mean, Dara, it’s like blinking, not like texting behind your back while we’re busy.”

Dara bit his lip. He could understand that, his telepathy was still active while doing everything he did but he still hated the fact that couldn't get Noam’s absolute attention for some reason. He wanted to be good enough that Noam forgot there existed anything in the world besides Dara, even reflexes. “Like I said, I’m not upset, just surprised.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Because I’m into you and I don't want you to think-”

Dara pressed a finger against his lips. “I get it.”

Noam forcibly shut down his ramble and instead touched his fingers to the back of Dara’s hand, eyes carefully watching his face for any negative reaction as he slowly held it and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “Don't be mad at me, please.”

“I’m not,” Dara murmured. “I’m just naturally very prickly.”

Noam kissed his hand again and Dara smiled faintly. Noam glanced out the window. “We’re here. Come on.”

Dara dragged him out of the car and into the elevator. He frowned. There were people in the apartment? He kept his face carefully blank as Noam led him to the apartment with a gentle hand on the small of his back, the barest whisper of a touch, just enough to drive Dara a little crazy.

“Surprise!”

Bethany was smiling widely as she screamed it, hands stretching out towards him before she quickly aborted the gesture and instead clasped them together

Dara frowned incredulously. “Was all this a distraction?” Noam shrugged coyly. Dara shoved him. “Really?”

“They wanted to surprise you. I offered to help.”

“We’ve never managed to do that before so we saw our chance and took it,” Ames said. She smiled and poked him in the arm. “Happy birthday.”

“You've never managed before?”

“No, I mean, it’s hard to because-”

“Ames.” Dara shook his head.

“Dara is very perceptive, can't keep secrets from him. It’s unfair really.”

She smiled and Noam made a perfectly confused face at her. Dara shifted uneasily, there wasn't anything wrong with it, a carefully constructed pulling together of eyebrows and questioning eyes but he still got the feeling that there was something wrong.

Then Noam smiled and whatever was behind his face went back into hiding. Or maybe Dara was just being crazy again.

He distracted himself by taking in the colorful flags and glittering string hanging from the ceiling. Giant sparkles were pushed together in a corner.

“Not bad, huh?”

Dara smirked at Taye. “Those could be bigger.”

Taye grinned slowly. “I’m not paying for property damage.”

“You won't have to.”

“Oh no,” Bethany sighed. 

“We are going to have  _ so _ much fun.”

* * *

12 feet tall sparklers were as fun as Dara had imagined. When they burned out they huddled back down from the roof- giggling like schoolchildren- to give him their gifts (A new telescope from Ames, a range of cookbooks from Bethany and a kokedama the size of a chandelier with a giant pothos curling over the edge from Taye) and lost to Dara at poker until Ames threw her cards down in a huff.

“It’s no fun if I’m not on your team,” she groaned.

Dara smirked. “Don't like losing?” 

She glared at him. “It’s unfair, why does he get to be on your team?”

Dara wiggled himself back on Noam’s lap. “We’re married.” He turned to smile at him and Noam answered by gently squeezing his hips and pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

Then he looked at Ames. “I’ve no idea how to play poker,” he confessed.

Her eyes which had been tracking the interaction with interest widened. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

She gasped and pointed an accusing acrylic nail at their faces. “Crime. Crime! How dare you!”

“Shun him,” Bethany decided.

Taye nodded thoughtfully. “Shun him.”

“Shun him.”

“This is like fucking middleschool all over again,” Noam mumbled and Ames cackled loudly.

“Don't be mean to him,” Dara cooed. “He’s sensitive, he doesn't know how to handle that.”

Ames immediately flipped Noam off. 

“Ames!” Bethany was laughing but there were blood tinged memories edging their way to the forefront of her mind.

Dara pressed his cards into Noam’s hand. “Hold onto this for me.”

“Sure, babe.” Noam smiled at him, crawling backwards on the couch as soon as Dara vacated his lap because Ames was grabbing at the cards while complaining loudly about unfairness and Taye was leaning sideways to try and catch a glimpse. 

He walked towards the kitchen, gently tugging on one of Bethany’s curls as he walked past. “Come on honeybees, I need help.”

She startled at the touch and the name, scrambling to follow, heart carefully cupped around the violent whirlpool of affection that was threatening to dump itself all over Dara in one vicious sweep.

She was nearly vibrating with nerves as she entered the kitchen behind him. For a moment he considered doing something to put her at ease but he didn't know what and that wasn't what she wanted.

She circled quickly through _ loveyoumissyousorrysorrysorry-  _ before settling on, “Honeybees is a stupid nickname.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean,” she hopped up on the table and gestured vaguely, “Where does it even come from?”

“Bee is one of your nicknames.”

“No, B is. Like ‘B,’ the letter.”

“Well now it's bees.”

“Why honeybees?” she burst out.

He gave her a small grin. “Yellow hair.”

“Fuck off.”

“You're just mad that I’m such a genius at nicknames.”

“I hate you.” They smiled at each other. “So how've you been?”

“Good. I already told you.”

She shrugged uncomfortably. “Yeah, but you always say that.”

“So why ask?”

“You seem happy.” She paused, waiting, but Dara didn't give. “With Noam.”

“It’s not half bad.”

“He treats you well?”

“Better than Lehrer at least. He’s not a bad person.”

She shifted, scuffing her toe against the ground and god, she had grown so much. “Feel like your standards might be a little low there.”

“Maybe.”

“He’s dangerous, Dara,” she whispered, voice cracking. Dara paused from where he’d been gathering snacks to process the dawning horror of realizing someone had broken through the wards and had access to all plans, running, running, running, metal screaming behind you as it was torn down and then a mind numbing focus as you watched torn skin stitch back together again and again. You saved a lot of people but not enough never enough-

“Enough,” Dara said. “That’s enough.”

“I’m sorry.”

He steadied himself against the counter. “He got you.”

She bit her lip. “Close. I had evacuation priority so I was fine.” She took a trembling breath. “He’s strong. I was lucky.”

“You could have taken him.”

She snorted. “Thanks.”

“I’m serious, no one can shoot when their heart is forced to beat along to the pink panther theme.”

She put her hands on her hips. “You're always so morbid.”

“You love me.”

“I do.”

“Ew.” Bethany gave him an affronted kick. He quickly kissed her hair. “You too. Now, stop being useless.”

She helped him take everything back to the living room where they were greeted with a heated discussion between Noam and Taye while Ames was slowly crawling towards Dara’s cards. He grabbed her ankle and dragged her backwards. “That’s not yours.”

She almost kicked his eye out with one of her heels. “Give it to me!”

“No!”

Taye paused using the deck to demonstrate his point to dive for the cards too. “Parkour!”

Noam tackled him and they both fell, almost knocking over the table. Taye was laughing so hard he couldn't even talk as he and Noam rolled over the floor.

“Guys!” Bethany said affronted but she was laughing too.

Dara rolled his eyes fondly “Boys, that’s enough.” Noam got off Taye, letting himself fall against the floor as Taye caught his breath. Dara stepped over him. “Tackling our guests, what would high society say?”

Noam gently grabbed his calves, stroking up and down. “Nothing they're not already saying.”

“True.” Dara stepped back, offering both of them a hand and pulling them up. “Now be good and let me destroy you at poker.”

* * *

It took awhile for everyone to leave but in the end they all had a good time, Bethany had even warmed up to Noam after Ames had physically pulled Dara off his lap and sat on him with the announcement that it was now her turn and Noam could team with Bethany instead. She was better at explaining things than Dara and Noam actually learned something for once apparently. Not enough to win but still. They had both been bright and bubbly when everyone had left. When Noam had collapsed on the couch after cleaning up and when Dara climbed on top of him with a sly smile he had smiled back with an openness Dara didn't know how to guard himself against.

“Have fun?”

“Yes,” Dara sighed into Noam’s chest.”

“I’m glad, honey.”

Dara felt something in his chest cave in at the nickname. He pushed himself up on his elbows and whatever wild, untouched thing was slipping on his face made Noam frown. “Baby?”

Dara leaned forward slowly until their noses touched, gently sliding his against Noam’s. Noam didn't react besides slipping a hand in his hair, coiling the curls around his finger, keeping him close without any force. Dara sighed again and nuzzled in Noam’s neck, resting his cheek against Noam’s shoulder and letting his fingers wander over Noam’s shirt.

“I liked today a lot.”

“I’m glad,” Noam repeated.

Dara shifted so he could look at Noam. “I like you a lot too,” he said honestly, he wasn't used to it, it burned its way up, chafing along his throat, raw. Dara was only good at lies.

Noam’s face softened and Dara couldn't stop his smile. Noam cradled him more firmly and pressed a kiss against his forehead. “You're incredible.”

Dara buried himself closer so Noam couldn't see his face anymore, drawing a small, dissatisfied sound from the chest underneath him. He let his finger dance towards Noam’s collar past the two loose top buttons, slowly unpopping the third, then a fourth, then a fifth, until he could easily push the shirt open and trail his fingers over Noam’s collarbones, losing himself in the feeling of skin and the slight raise of scars. Dara didn't pause at them, Noam wouldn't appreciate reminders, not now. 

Noam retaliated by sliding his hands under Dara’s shirt and pushing it up, exposing Dara’s back to the cool air making him shiver. 

“Baby,” Noam singsonged. Dara bit felt a hand under his chin, bringing him up so Noam could kiss him more.

Dara sighed softly as he felt Noam’s hand cradle his face to angle him better and lazily circled his arms around Noam’s neck before deepening the kiss. He smiled when he felt one of Noam’s hands palm his ass. Dara ground down in response and Noam breathed in sharply, grabbing Dara more firmly and guiding him down again and again until they were both panting. Noam let go of him to pull his shirt over his head and Dara ripped the rest of the buttons open so he could put his hands all over Noam’s abs and nothing seemed more important to get his mouth on Noam’s V lines right now so he started leaving marks down Noam’s neck, down his chest, tongueing gently over scars, holding eye contact as he nosed down Noam’s happy trail and tugged at his pants. Noam seemed agreeable enough as he unbuckled his belt.

Then he suddenly grabbed Dara and pulled him up again.

“What-” 

Noam silenced him with a kiss, pressing a quick one to his chest before grabbing Dara tightly and standing up. Dara wrapped his legs around Noam’s waist on instinct. Noam smiled broadly, Dara wasn't sure at what, maybe his red cheeks, messy hair or the stupid look he couldn't fight off his face but it wasn't his fault, people were allowed to look stupid when they were being carried like didn't weigh a thing by a 6 foot 4 man with kind eyes.

He tilted his head slowly, carefully schooling his features into mild interest. Noam’s eyes caught onto the line of his throat and then flickered up to his face, slightly nervous at his reaction. “You're handsome,” Dara said softly.

Noam brightened again. “You think so?”

“Yes.”

“You should have seen me a couple weeks ago,” Noam confessed. “The bureaucracy and good food has me all soft.”

“Oh look at the man with the V lines bitching about having a beer belly,” Dara deadpanned.

Noam laughed and then kissed him again. “Alright, alright. Let me just take you upstairs yeah?”

Dara leaned forward to bite his bottom lip hard enough for it to sting. “Yeah.”

Noam grinned wide and hungry.

And then his fucking phone rang. 

“Hold on.” He let go of Dara with one hand to bring his phone to his ear. “Hello?”

Dara heard the faint sound of a stressed out woman begging Noam to please come in, they needed him, they were on her ass-

Noam cast one look at Dara. Dara wanted him to say ‘figure it out,’ to tell her that he would be in tomorrow, to hang up without saying anything but instead he closed his eyes briefly and then carefully let Dara down. “Tell them I’m on my way.” Then he hung up.

“Noam?”

“I’m sorry. I have to.”

“Noam.”

“I know.” He kissed Dara again and then grabbed his shirt, handing Dara his before looking down at the ruined buttons. Dara sighed, disappointment taking over, making Noam flinch at his displeasure, before knitting the shirt together again. Noam watched in amazement as the buttons sprung back on and nestled themselves neatly on the fabric as tiny threads criss crossed over them and pulled tight.

“Thank you.”

“If you're really thankful you'll try to get back as soon as possible.”

“I will,” Noam promised. He swooped down to kiss Dara again. “Bye, honey”

“Stay safe,” Dara demanded.

Noam waved at him one last time before running out the door.

Dara threw himself onto the pillows with all the charm of a scorned child and suppressed a scream. He’d gotten so close to having Noam today. He wasn't sure when that had become important but he wanted to have Noam entirely, wanted Noam to possess him. Dara had always hated his cages but he could settle down if Noam held the keys.

If Noam was as obsessed with him as everyone else was everything would be alright.

That was a lie but Dara had always thrived on lies, a perk one got from being fed them since birth. Or toddlerhood to be more accurate.

He wanted to carve a seam down the middle of his chest and swing open his ribs like closet doors so Noam could see his heart and not recoil. Not lash out either. Noam wasn't someone whose first instinct when faced with vulnerability was harm. Dara was. Vulnerability had always been weakness, it was weaknes’s nature to be trampled and Dara had always complied. 

He didn't pretend to be a good person. Good didn't survive and Dara wasn't going to give in to Lehrer.

Not again, at least. But he didn't think anyone could blame him for that attempt. It had failed anyway, did that make him weak or strong?

Deep down he knew the answer that kept bobbing to the surface again and again but as long as he could push it down he could pretend.

Dara was a good liar.

Maybe Bethany was right, he was morbid.

He glared down at his pants. Typical that Dara had to beg every man to keep their hands off him except the one he wanted. Maybe he should go upstairs, imagine what Noam’s hands would feel like until he came undone and then pretend it never happened. Or he could wait into Noam’s bed, naked and pliant under the sheets until Noam came back. Would that be too much? Would Noam appreciate initiative or see it as a challenge? Did Dara want to risk pissing him off?

_ Desperate _ .

Dara wanted to throw up.

He went to his own room, staring at his phone, debating whether he should send Noam something. An invitation to come to his room when he got back or a simple goodnight instead.

In the end he didn't send anything, just staring unmoving at the ceiling during the many hours between him throwing his phone against the wall and the front door opening. Lying silently in the dark as Noam made his way upstairs as quietly as possible, hesitating for a second on the landing before turning towards his room without looking back.

Dara didn't fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my next act I will grant Dara my rapid mood swings and no chill thought process.
> 
> I'm so sorry about pausing here! I know it's a shitty place to wait but I'll try to be back as soon as possible! I might also post other works in the meantime but that's not bc I've forgotten abt this fic dw.
> 
> (edit: I will probably be back in like 2-3 weeks, I hope things will be better then so I'll have more energy)
> 
> Title from mitski, A pearl.
> 
> (Also can you see me skirt the teen rating lmao)

**Author's Note:**

> I am a slut for poems.
> 
> This is an apology  
> for the things I have to say about us  
> to get over us. 
> 
> I feel most like myself  
> when I am washing blood off my hands  
> in the shower; and I hope  
> whatever is eating you alive does it as slowly  
> as possible. I know it doesn’t sound like it,  
> but this is a love poem, this is a love poem,  
> this is a love poem 
> 
> until it isn’t anymore.  
> \- Trista Mateer
> 
> Also updates will not be regular bc I get very slow as soon as the plot starts to thicken but kudos and comments are still very much appreciated :)


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